The Truth About Trees
by Tiny Q
Summary: Everyone seems to be having revelations brought about by falling out of trees. There are also some pretty twisted love triangles about and Ginny seems to be stuck in the middle of them. To her horror, or luck, Malfoy seems determined to join her. D/G
1. The Cliched Potions Class

Title: The Truth About Trees

Author: Tiny Q

E-Mail: one_legged_lesbian_seagull@hotmail.com

A/N: Looky! Another story! Have I lost my mind?? Probably. And what's scarier is that I have another idea forming in my deranged mind. This is my first posted first-person fic, but not my first attempt. Don't ask what happened to that. It's kinda odd though that a lot of people are suddenly doing first-person fics. Conspiracy? I think so. 

Disclaimer: Sadly, nothing is mine but the plot and I suppose Ginny's new classes though not original they might be. 

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The Truth About Trees

Chapter 1

The Cliched Potions Class

This whole thing started in the summer before I, Ginny Weasley, was to go into my sixth year at Hogwarts. My brother, Ron, had his two best friends, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter, staying over for the whole of August. If it had been a few years back I doubt my cheeks would have been any other color than bright red when I was around the Boy Who Lived.

Lucky for me I had gotten over Harry two summers before when I had a sudden revelation brought about by my falling out of a tree. Now don't ask me how I got to be in that tree in the first place for it is a very long story that would require me to explain many little details that all eventually lead up to me being in that predicament. Not exactly dull but it holds no relevance to this particular story.

Now as I was saying before I went off on my little tree tangent, Ron's friends were over all August. At first I went about as though there was nothing different about his month from the other summer month. Going out in clothes worthy of any die-hard HFV(Ho Fashion Victim) with a good book and drink to sun tan. Ok. Not so much sun tan as sit under a tree. I have fair skin alright? Or I would blare my music extra loud in my room, sing along until someone would bang on the door or the walls or the ceiling but more often than not, the floor. I didn't go anywhere with my friends. They were all on holiday.

It wasn't until the second week that my brother and co. began to notice me. Actually it was Hermione who started it all, coming to sit with me as I read, claiming she couldn't stand the testosterone. In other words she needed a chick to talk to. Namely me. I was more than willing to talk back, after all, all my friends were on holidays. It was quite fun actually. Chatting about guys, music, food, clothes and other girlish things. Ok, I know that sounds gay, but it was fun.

Soon Ron and Harry would join her and our more personal subjects dropped from the conversations and were replaced by stupid jokes and other generally interesting things. In my eyes the three of them had changed so much over the past few years. Ever since Hermione's teeth had been reduced in size three years prior she had begun to take more care with her looks. Her once bushy hair was now charmed to be silky and wavy, travelling down the length of her back. Even though she isn't exactly tall,(actually in my opinion she is quite short, but that's coming from a girl who's 5'10) her strong will and attitude make her seem almost as tall as Ron who is constantly ramming his head into low-hanging lights. 

My brother had begun to weight train the year before and is now insanely strong. No one dares to mess with him any more for he is quite volatile if he wants to be. But his explosions of rage are not nearly as frequent as they used to be. It's almost as though he realized that he can't get as far with violence as opposed to a few key words.

And then there is Harry. His hair as messy as ever, hiding his lightning bolt scar and touching the rims of his glasses. Though he isn't as tall as my brother he is still tall. He has a good two to three inches over me. And he is skinny, Merlin he is skinny, but buff at the same time. I suppose it comes with the territory of being a Seeker.

Hermione's attitude is an odd one. She is quite strict about things, almost like McGonagall, yet if my brother and Harry, who both have uniquely dark and twisted senses of humors, get her going she'll laugh and giggle for hours. I personally find some of their jokes quite disturbing but oh well, it was all rather funny. 

It all happened slowly, but in the weeks that followed I began to feel more and more accepted in the threesome's circle. I didn't believe it at first, I mean I had been trying to do this for most of my school years but had never succeeded. What was different now? Yet as they made sure I was with them for more and more things I began to push that pesky little voice to the back of my head.

Why shouldn't they want me in their circle? I mean I'm pretty to look at(or so I'm told), I have many interests(more odd than sane) and have been repeatedly told I am quite entertaining if not cute.

Ok. Enough of the ego boost and egotistical talk. All you really need to know is that over the summer I was befriended by my brother and his two friends. And _that_ is how I find myself here. Sitting in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express between my friend Colin Creevey and a now not too shy Neville Longbottom. My brother, Harry and Hermione across from me.

"I still can't believe you did that Neville!" Harry proclaimed. Everyone in the compartment nodded animatedly in agreement.

"Well, what was I supposed to do?" Neville asked in response. "There is only so much nagging I can take before I snap."

"And what a snap it was," Ron said in awe.

"Honestly," Hermione tutted. "You are treating him like a hero! He blew up his grandmother's _kitchen_ for God's sake!"

I was torn between laughter and agreement with the older girl. Ever since Neville had been forced to face Wormtail in Voldemort's annual attack on Harry last year, he had been bestowed with new confidence. In other words he realized he was not a squib but in fact full of enough power to rival most wizards and had taken it upon himself to stand up to anything and anyone that once brought him down. Draco Malfoy was the first victim when he attempted to tease him and found he had a large hole in his midsection. Quite funny if you ask me. Now it seemed that Neville, the former chubby boy gone punk, had finally stood up to his grandmother. In a big way.

"I think I have to agree with Hermione on this one," I added. Albeit for me not to take a chance to put in my two cents. "I think your new found courage is fantastic, Neville. And I'm really happy for you. But isn't blowing up a kitchen a little extreme? I mean didn't you get into trouble with the Ministry?"

"A shit load," Neville said with a grin. "Threatened me with expulsion and removal of my wand. But since it was my first offense they let it slide. That and the fact that most of the officials still remember my parents."

That was another new thing about Neville. He was now very open about his parents. Almost as if he had had a revelation about them. I wonder if he too fell out of a tree.

"Let's change the subject, shall we?" Ron asked, obviously noticing the rising tensions in the compartment. The other occupants shrugged. "Anyone see the Chudley Cannons' game last week?"

I groaned and was not the only one. "Ron, your team sucks," I hissed. "Get over it. They lost. Again."

"Shut up," he snapped at me.

I stuck out my tongue at him.

"You're so ima-" Harry began with a laugh but promptly stopped when Ron did the same thing back.

"Colin," Hermione said pointedly, shooting dark looks at myself and Ron. "How was your summer? I hear you went on a holiday?"

This was the polite side of Hermione. The Head Girl side. Not that it's a big surprise that she got the position. There would be something terribly wrong with the universe if she didn't. Justin Finch-Fletchy was her counterpart in crime. I think the two of them would make a good couple. They both take far to much pride in their jobs. Not that I would ever utter this aloud.

"It was great," Colin said from beside me. I had to smile. Colin was just too cute. A regular sweetie. The kind of guy girls lined up to get. "Dad took Dennis and I to North America. We went all over the US and Canada. I got to see a moose!"

"Oh, wow. A moose," a voice drawled as the compartment doors were pulled open. We all turned to see Draco Malfoy and his two gooneys, Crabbe and Goyle who seemed if possible to have gotten bigger in every way. 

Malfoy himself seemed to have changed a fair bit over the summer as well. His face was more defined as though he had lost all the baby-fat, giving him an almost aristocratic look. He seemed taller as well, but that could just be because I am sitting and he is standing. I would wager he was about Harry's height. The rest of him was more filled out, yet he was still skinny, not Harry skinny but pleasantly skinny. Pleasantly skinny? Boy, I think I have been getting too much sun lately. 

"Sure it wasn't simply your mother, Creevey?"

"Don't you ever get bored of this, Malfoy?" Ron spat at the blonde. "Every year you come in here and bother us. Don't you have a life?"

"Oh I have a life," Malfoy drawled. "And you are quite fortunate that I make time out of it just to visit you."

"Many words came to mind when you said that," Harry hissed. "And fortunate is definitely not one of them."

Malfoy's blue-gray eyes narrowed as he looked at his enemy. I found he looked rather devilish with his fine hair and pale, pointed face. All he needs are some horns and a tail. Oh yes, we can't forget the tail. I fought back the urge to laugh out loud.

"I find it quite entertaining," Malfoy sneered. "When the freaks of the school begin to pair off. Honestly Potter, I always thought you would end up with the tall oaf beside you rather than the mudblood."

Come to think of it, Harry and Hermione _were_ sitting quite close together. The rest of us seemed to be thinking along those same lines as we stared at the two of them. Hermione blushed while Harry ignored us all. How could Malfoy pick up on that before I did?

"If anyone is gay, Malfoy, it's you," Harry growled back. "How long exactly do you spend shopping and standing in front of the mirror?"

"Don't mistake good taste for homosexuality, Potter," Malfoy hissed, eyes narrowing further. There was a little line between his eyebrows that I know will become permanent if he continues to squint like that. But what do I care? He is a Malfoy after all. "But from the looks of you lot you wouldn't know good taste if it ran around naked and bit you on the nose." His eyes lingered on myself and finally Neville who rose to his feet. Ron and Harry followed suit.

"Out. Now," Neville growled, pulling out his wand.

"Whatever," Malfoy snarled. Nodding to the two behind him, they left.

"What crawled up his ass and died?" Colin asked after the door had slid shut.

"And rolled over several times in the process," I added. The others sat down and I noticed that Harry and Hermione were once again sitting quite close. It seems like it is turning out to be an interesting year.

~*~

A valid question, I thought as I led my two friends back to our compartments. They weren't exactly the best of friends, more like dense entities than anything else. But they were loyal and that's what friendships all about, right?

As is habit lately, I find myself running my hand through my fine sliver-blonde hair. The same silver-blonde hair that has been in the Malfoy family for centuries. One of the few bonuses of being a Malfoy in fact. Not that there are many.

Sure you got a shit load of money and pretty much what ever you want, but there's a down side as well. Parents who never really care or say they love you to your face. Simply buy you things instead. Having to live up to your father's expectations to take his place as the heir to the Malfoy family fortune. Pretend to be evil and loyal to the Dark Lord.

Yes, pretend to be evil and loyal. I figured it all out a few years back. In quite a painful way by falling out of a tree. I will say no more about _that_ though. Being evil isn't all it's caked up to be. You always have the "good guys" breathing down your neck which would ultimately make you paranoid. As well, most evil doers are ugly looking. Scars and all that. Take Voldemort for example: from beauty to monster all for power. And ugly and paranoid is no way to go through life.

Another little thing is that if you are going to be evil you got to be on top. Not simply a minion, even if you are a right-hand man. And working under the Dark Lord is a waste of time for the man's ultimate goal is to gain himself ultimate power. Where would I fall into that?

So I suppose if I truly wanted to be evil I could start up my own following. Rise up and knock Voldemort out of the running. Only problem is that I lack the motivation to do so and am rather fond of my good looks. 

In conclusion, I am not evil as everyone assumes. Perhaps overly cynical and sarcastic, but that can't be helped. I am a Malfoy after all. Which is why I must pretend to be evil and loyal. At least for now. Can't go giving flowers out to everyone and be all happy. Daddy dearest and his master might catch on. What a tragedy that would be.

"That red-headed girl sure got pretty," Goyle said conversationally as we reclaimed our seats. Though a conversation with Goyle is more like pulling teeth. "Even if she is in Gryffindor," he added hastily.

"Wouldn't' mind a piece of her," Crabbed agreed with a snigger.

I frowned slightly. Yes, the youngest Weasley did seem to have grown into something since last I saw her. I recalled our recent visit to the Dream Team and they clan. She was taller, more filled out. Yet she was still pale, red haired, freckled and dreadfully underfed. Not exactly the kind of girl I would go for. That and her being a Weasley. But I have to admit, there is something about her.

"So are you saying, Crabbe, that you would take the Weasley girl over Parkinson?" I asked innocently. I know perfectly well that my friend has been taken by my former girlfriend, who I now see as insufferably ditzy, for the past few years. This fact was once again confirmed as the boy's face turned a bright shade of red.

Goyle laughed. I chuckled a bit.

"Wouldn't it be really twisted if Potter _was_ gay?" Goyle asked after a few minutes.

"I could see it," I offered with a slight sneer. Actually I couldn't. Potter was too perfect to be gay. Though it sounded quite sinister if I agreed. Crabbe and Goyle you see don't know about my revelation either. No one does. They think I am as evil as can be and follow me for it. 

"He'd probably like you then," Crabbe said to me, a twisted smile on his face.

"What?" I choked. I defiantly wasn't expecting _that_. 

"Only joking," Crabbe said quickly, panic flashing across his face. As if _I_ would jinx _him_.

"You should have seen the look on your face though," Goyle laughed. "You looked as if you just found out your dad's a Muggle." He twisted his face to look, what I assumed to be, like me. It was rather humorous, not for the fact that I supposedly looked like that but rather that he looked rather stupid.

The three of us burst out laughing. My two companions snorting away, while my laugh remained rather silent as usual. My body moving as though I was laughing but no sound issuing forth except gasps for breath. I knew the happiness did not reach my eyes. It never does.

A few hours latter Crabbe and Goyle had fallen asleep and I find myself staring out the window. Country side flashes by in an incoherent blur. I find the gloom of it rather comforting, soothing almost. Nice weather makes everyone cheerful. I hate that. Gloomy weather on the other hand puts a damper on their lives. No annoyingly cheerful voices, just calm, reassuring silence.

This is my last year at school. After this I'm on my own. My own man. No one to control me, tell me what to do, how to act, how to dress. Free. Or at least as free as society will let me be. 

What will I do with my life? I have been asked this countless times over the past few months. All the adults I meet always ask me this and I can never tell them for I don't know myself. There is so much I can do and yet it's so hard to chose. Hopefully as the year unfolds I'll figure it out.

Which brings another thought to my mind. What will my final year be like? Six years at this school and no year has been quite the same as the other. We have Potter and Voldemort to thank for this I suppose. Keeps life interesting I guess. Wonder what type of sinister plan the Dark Lord has cooked up this year.

As the train rounds a corner to reveal our final destination I feel a mix of excitement and dread. I suppose I will find out soon enough.

~*~

The first couple weeks of school went by with their usual mix of stress and nervousness. I have a selection of new courses this year and am finding them a little difficult to adapt to, much to my distress. I keep assuring myself that this will change, I just need to get used to them, yet as everything does in times of distress, that time seems far off.

I have my basic classes: Herbology, DADA, Care of Magical Creatures, Astronomy and Transfiguration. Which I am having no problems with. It's the three new classes that are the cause for my headaches. Magical Medicine, Technical Dueling(A new course taught by the Ministry to encourage the employment of more Aurors) and Advanced Potions.

The first two are more or less simply time consuming and difficult. It's potions that I find quite annoying. I was thrilled at first when Snape told me I was eligible to take the course. The only Gryffindor in the whole school. I always enjoyed potions. Not so much the theory but more the practice. I love to mix and create. Always have.

It's this love for creation that keeps me in. The class is a six/seven split for there are only six students in total taking the course. Only two of us are sixth years. Myself and a snobby Ravenclaw named Rae Gill with whom I have never gotten along. The seventh years consist of Hannah Abbott of Hufflepuff, Padma Patil and Brendon McCathy of Ravenclaw. And of course, Snape's favorite Slytherin and student: Draco Malfoy.

Needless to say I don't really have anyone to talk to and I have never been that great at starting up a conversation with strangers. The four others had become a tightly knit group leaving myself and Malfoy out. The git always sits behind me for some annoying reason. I greatly dislike when people sit behind me. Especially when that person is my family's enemy.

I'm sitting in this class right now in fact, doodling absentmindedly on my parchment as Snape goes over the potions lab he had us write up last night. A rabbit. A girl. A snitch. The beginnings of a cute boy.

"You all must break into groups of two," Snape's voice sliced through the doodlesk frame of my mind. I snapped my head up to look at him. Surely I must have heard incorrectly. I mean, this has never happened before. It's always been independent work. My heart sank as the four students seated before me paired off cheerfully. This meant-

"Move over Weasley," a cold voice drawled to my right. I looked over and my heart sank further as I saw Malfoy standing beside me, belongings in hand. Spirits dropping faster than a 1000 ton weight over a cliff, I scooted down the bench I was seated on, dragging my stuff across the table with me.

"As you know, this potion will take a fair amount of time," Snape said in his usual oily voice. His eyes flicked across the class and paused at myself and Malfoy. He seemed almost amused. "About two classes. You can come in after classes if need be to complete it. Through out the year you can do this with out asking permission. But abuse this privilege and you will be punished accordingly." He glared at the six of us. "I will be marking you on cooperation and the potion itself." His lip twitched. "Any questions?"

The petite class remained silent.

"Alright, you may begin."

I looked down at my lab which I now realized was covered in doodles. This meant I would have to rewrite the bloody thing. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

"You draw," Malfoy said, looking at my lab as well. There seemed to be an odd look of humor on his face that I just didn't like.

I frowned slightly. "More doodle," I responded, "I don't have time to draw."

"Pity," he said, then turned to his own lab which was neatly written. "You prepare the first half of the ingredients, I'll do the second half." I looked down at the list realizing it was quite long. I nodded. "And Weasley," he sneered quietly. "Fight off that natural urge to fuck things up. I want to get a good grade."

I looked at him sharply and resisted the urge to give him the finger. Snape was prowling about. "Oh but it's so difficult," I sneered back in much the same undertone, pulling out what I would need to prepare. "But then you probably know that better than I do."

He looked at me coldly and I smirked back. Bloody git. I'll show him.

~*~

I still can't believe I'm working with that bloody Weasley. She's so damned cocky even for a Gryffindor. It seemed her tendency to cower had disappeared along with her childish looks.

We'd been working silently for the past hour while the other two groups chatted merrily away. Not for the first time I wished they would shut up. Their voices were interrupting the brooding I was attempting to complete.

I don't think Weasley knew it when she said it, but I do know what it's like to have to fight off a natural urge. The urge to follow the ingrained teachings of my father. Yeah, Dark Arts. I really hate that man. Who is he to tell me I must be evil? Why doesn't he just-

A tapping noise to my left once again pulls me from my mental state. Weasley was tapping her blue quill annoyingly against the table.

"Do you mind?" I hissed, glaring at her. She looked mildly back.

"No," she said simply, continuing her tapping. I looked around for Snape. He was looking disapprovingly at the Hufflepuff's sliced Dragon Wings.

"Well I do," I hissed back, glaring.

"That's nice," she said absently.

"Why aren't you working?" I demanded, my eyes not leaving the moving quill. 

"I'm done," she said. "But I have to wait for you to finish before I can start the potion."

"How horrible for you," I drawled, getting extremely annoyed. With a quickness that surprised myself I tore the girl's quill form her hand and jammed it into my bag.

"Hey!" she said with a mixture of surprise and anger. "Give me back my quill!"

"No," I said simply and went back to cutting my Lela root in peace. I could feel her glaring daggers at me but ignored her.

"_Accio_ quill," I heard her mutter and turned to see she had pulled out her wand. The quill went soaring out of my bag and into her outstretched hand. She shot me a superior look then proceeded to cover her lab with even more doodles.

Bitch.

~*~

The potions incident caused me to be more annoyed than usual. I stormed my way to the Gryffindor tower so I could finish my homework before dinner. I hate that kid. Absolutely despise him. Upon entering the Common Room I found it deserted except for Harry and Hermione who were once again sitting oddly close to each other.

"Ginny, what's wrong?" Hermione asked me with concern. I must look worse than I thought.

Without knowing exactly why, I told the two of them exactly what had happened. I usually don't, preferring to keep things like that to myself and my journal. Wouldn't wand to sound like a whiner. But tell them I did and felt relatively better afterwards. Especially when Harry called Malfoy a slimy git.

"And I have a feeling I'm going to be stuck with him all year," I concluded miserably, plopping down onto an armchair opposite them.

"Hmm," Hermione said, looking pensive. "Perhaps you could use this to your advantage."

"What?" Harry and I both asked at the same time.

"How?" I demanded.

"Well," she began. "He's in the same position you are since the other four don't seem to like him either. He has to work with you."

"So?" Harry asked frowning. At one point or another in my life I would have thought it cute. Now it seems rather childish. "How can that be to her advantage except that she has a git for a partner?"

"You're not seeing the bigger picture," Hermione said patiently. "Since he has no one else to work with, Ginny can do what ever she likes and he has no choice but to go back. She can screw with his mind. Bring him up to tear him down sort of speak. And he can't go running to Snape cause he's the only Slytherin and must set a good example for his house."

"Oh," Harry said with dawning. It made sense to me now as well. An interesting idea. But what would I do? I'm not exactly the manipulative type, no matter how much I wish I were. I can't even lie that well, just be overly sarcastic. And to manipulate a Slytherin, not to mention a Malfoy is much different from manipulating, say, a Hufflepuff.

I looked over to my two friends to see them looking back at me expectantly. Oh dear. 

"Well?" Hermione asked.

"Has potential," I offered. The thought about it a bit. Actually, come to think of it, it had a lot of potential. Perhaps not in a big way, but enough to screw him over a bit. I began to grin. "I think I've got an idea forming . . ."

"Good," Harry said with a grin.

No one said anything after this and the silence began to get awkward. I looked around, wondering where everyone could be. I mean it's usually late at night or during a meal time that the room it this deserted. I was getting this sinking suspicion that I had walked in on something and the two of them had just been to polite to say anything. Maybe I should leave? 

I was about to get up when Harry's voice made me stay.

"Ginny, we can trust you, right?" he asked me. I was so surprised by the question that I snapped my head towards him. His eyes were sincere and questioning. So were Hermione's for that matter.

"Of course," I said with a frown. "Why couldn't you?"

"I don't know," Harry said sheepishly. "It just sounded like a good way to start a conversation."

"What Harry's trying to say," Hermione said after rolling her eyes, "Is that Harry and I are going out."

"Oh," I said, a little dumbstruck by her frankness. "Since when?"

"A few weeks."

"Ok," I said slowly. This isn't awkward, now is it? "Why did you want to know if you could trust me before telling me?"

"We need to keep it a secret," Hermione said seriously.

"We'll never hear the end of it," Harry elaborated. "We don't want to see it all over the papers and stuff."

"Oh," I said again. What a vocabulary I have. This was getting odd. But I suppose the papers would have it all over the place if Harry Potter, magical world's most eligible bachelor was off the market. "Does Ron know?"

"No," Hermione said quickly. "We've been meaning to tell him. We just haven't had the right time."

"So, I'm the only one?" They both nodded. "Oh."

And so the conversation went with me saying more ten Sickel words like: Really? And: Cool. By the time I left though, I was feeling a mixture of confusion and pride. They told me first over Ron. Me, the newest edition to their group.

Well what ever the reason, I finally felt accepted. I was one of them. One of the Dream Team. But I couldn't push the nagging little voice away that said that no good will come from this. 

It seems like this year is going to be a hell of a lot more interesting than the last.

~*~

AN: Well yes, that's the end of the beginning. I know it was a little long, but if I left it where I was going to leave it you would all be bored out of your minds. That's not to say that you aren't right now. And if you are, I'm sorry! Anyhoo, should it sink or swim?? Reviews would be greatly appreciated!


	2. Notes and Nose Picking

Title: The Truth About Trees

Author: Tiny Q

E-Mail: one_legged_lesbian_seagull@hotmail.com

A/N: Well yes, here is the next chapter. Aren't you excited? I so am. He He He. I have the next two chapters written up as well, but typing them up is a bitch. Life is so hard. ~sob~ Anyhoo, I have nothing to really say, so I'll just leave you to reading.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine but the plot. Where ever it is . . . 

****

The Truth About Trees

Chapter 2

Notes and Nose Picking

Over the next few weeks life got better in some ways and more awkward in others. My classes became more tolerable, even potions with my now permanent partner, Malfoy. Every morning I got up and for some reason had the largest smile on my face for no other reason than my being alive, I suppose. And I am not a morning person. Everyone seemed to be getting along well and there was just this happy vibe around the Gryffindor tower.

Ron found out about Harry and Hermione about a week after I did. We were now the only ones who knew, charged with stamping out ideas of the two of them going out. And it was hard. It seemed every time they were together they had this urge to sit as close as was physically possible.

This was where the awkwardness came in. It seemed that when ever I was around them they were plastered together as though joined by cement or something. Ron didn't seem to notice or perhaps it just didn't bother him. Either way I never talked to him about it.

Hermione and I also seemed to be talking less than we did over the summer. Perhaps this is because we are back at school now and don't really have that much opportunity to talk. We don't really have any classes together so the only times I see her is during meals or in the Common Room. All times that she is with Harry. So I usually just sit there with them and Ron, trying to ignore the fact that the two of them are sitting so close.

In a way I suppose I am jealous. I mean, I don't have a crush on Harry anymore or anything like that, but I have never had a boyfriend. The closest I ever had was my pity date with Neville Longbottom. Not exactly boyfriend material at the time. And here's Hermione practically rubbing it in my face that I'm alone. I know I shouldn't think like that cause I know she is not doing anything of the sort but- oh, I don't know. I would love to have a guy who is willing to sit that close to me and hold my hand and tell me I'm great. But then what teenage girl doesn't on some level?

Anyway, I suppose I should get back to the present, shouldn't I? It's Friday today and as always I have double potions first thing. Colin, as he always does, walked with me down to breakfast. I am finding myself looking forward to these walks more and more lately. Colin has a refreshing sense of humor that I missed over the summer. It's not as perverse as Ron or Harry's. It's more imaginative and mischievous. Easier to relate to I suppose.

"You seem quite cheerful today," he said, glancing over at me from under his fringe of sand-blonde hobbit hair. "Anything happening today I should know about?"

"No," I responded. "I just feel happy today." I frowned. "Really happy. I don't know why. Why am I so happy Colin?"

"Uh," was his response as he looked at me slightly funny. This wasn't out of the norm. I'm always getting odd looks. I don't really care any more. I would rather get odd looks than indifferent ones. "It's Friday?" he finally offered.

"That must be it," I agreed more soberly than before.

Breakfast was good. Friday mornings always have the best food. Well, there's never really anything different about the food so I guess it is just the fact that it is Friday that makes it better. Either way I always find I eat a bit more on Friday morning than any other morning. But then, do you _really_ want to know about my morning eating habits? I am guessing no.

The only real reason I mentioned breakfast was because Hermione gave me a note. Actually, I don't even know why I even mentioned food in the first place. The note has nothing to do with food. The paper of the note is not edible. Well there are some brands out there that you can eat, but this definitely isn't one of them.

She wouldn't tell me what it was about either, just told me to read it soon cause it's important. An important note? That's new. Usually the notes we write to reach other are just babble to replace the lack of actual speech that has developed between us lately.

I was going to read it on the way to potions but I got side-tracked and palmed the note before I could open it. Harry and Ron decided to walk me to class because they really didn't want to go to Divination.

"Why don't you just drop it?" I asked. "I mean you both despise it."

"Despise is not a strong enough word," Harry said mournfully.

"It's more like a hate that compels you to want to kill every damn idiot who ever even thought about Divination being a great class," Ron said bitterly.

"Lavander and Pavarti go first," Harry hissed in agreement. "I don't know how many more 'Ooooh's I can take."

I let out a snort of laughter. They may have twisted senses of humor, but they're still funny. I wouldn't mind decking the two ditzs myself. They're pretty bloody annoying if you ask me.

"What are you doing down here?" someone sneered from behind us. The three of us whipped around to see Malfoy striding towards us, obviously off to double potions as well.

"None of your business, Malfoy," Ron spat, pulling himself up to full height. He's still angry at the fact I have to work with the Slytherin. Ron keeps telling me I should drop the course because of him. I keep telling Ron to shove it.

Rolling his eyes, Malfoy disappeared into the dungeon where we have potions. We all glared after him.

"Stupid git," Harry growled. "I don't know how you put up with him."

"Neither do I," I sighed and walked into the class after him. "Latter," I called over my shoulder.

As I took my seat Malfoy looked at me with a superior expression. I sent him a dirty look.

"You know Weasley," he sneered after I had taken my seat beside him. "It's pretty sad when you have your brother as your best friend."

"There's nothing sad about that," I snapped back. "But then you're just jealous cause you're an only child. Closest thing you have to a sibling is probably a house elf. Or do you have a pet rock that is like a brother to you?"

Malfoy's eyes flashed angrily but he never got the chance to tell me off for Snape chose that moment to walk in. The potions professor seemed to be in an extra foul mood. Seems Fridays have the opposite effect on him as they do on me.

"Voice changing potion," he snapped more violently than usual. "Page 437." There was a rustling of belongings as everyone searched for their books and turned to the appropriate page. "You will make the potion within the next week and change your voice to that of your partner if you want full marks." 

Ugh, I don't want to sound like bloody Malfoy. He seemed to be thinking the same thing for his face reflected my own disgust. Looking pointedly at the two of us, Snape then proceeded to drone on and on about the potion.

I couldn't pay attention however. Hermione's note is just begging to be read. But I wouldn't dare. Snape would give me a weeks detention if he caught me. Hannah Abbott was caught last week and is still coming in to clean the floors. I wonder what could be so important thought? Deadly illness? Another diabolical plan to stop Voldemort? No I guess he would have to make a first move, wouldn't he? And the Dark Lord's been silent for a few months. Probably building his forces.

"Professor Snape," someone said as the door to the room was opened. It was Professor McGonagall looking as thin lipped as ever. "We need you in the staff room. Right now."

Snape, looking quite miffed, turned to us. "Read the chapter on identity changes. Don't start working yet. I need to explain a few more things." And with that he left. 

I can't believe my luck! So out comes Hermione's note (which is slightly damp from sitting in my hand the whole time). The rest of the students seemed to be contentedly gossiping while Malfoy seemed to be entertaining himself by actually reading the text. If I didn't know better I'd say he's no better than Hermione. 

The note itself was semi-long and didn't seem to be written any differently than the others at first glance. Guess I'll just have to read and find out.

_Ginny,_

I don't' know how much more of this I can take. Everything was going so well with Harry before but now it seems, I don't know. Pointless I suppose. We don't really talk anymore, just kind of sit there with each other.

I had noticed this. I just thought it was because they were talking, perhaps, telepathically or something. Ok. No I didn't. It's just that it seems that way by the way they look at each other. Oh stop looking at me like that.

_Every time I try to start a conversation he just brushes me off. And when we do talk it seems to turn into an argument. He's still pissed off that I sat with Ron and talked to him while he was leading the Quidditch practice. You were there. We didn't do anything but talk. _

I was there. And all they did do was talk. About what, I don't know. I wasn't really paying attention to them. Neville and Colin were more interesting at the time. But I do know why Harry was pissed: after the practice they didn't really talk to him, just more continued their conversation. I think I would be pissed too.

_So I'm not allowed to talk to anyone but him any more? But he doesn't talk back! And he always makes me feel so guilty lately when I want to study. I mean I have to study. He knows that. It's what I do. What I love to do. Ok. That sounded loserish but it's true. I can't just drop everything because Harry wants to sit around. I have responsibilities. I am Head Girl after all. And he gets really pissed whenever I go to a meeting. I offered that he come with me but he simply refused. _

Now this is a surprise. I never thought Harry to be like that. He always seemed so nice and considerate to me. Never overbearing or anything like that. 

_Ginny, I don't want to hurt him but being with him is hurting me. I feel so depressed lately and I think he's the reason. But I just couldn't break up with him. It would crush him. I don't want to be responsible for that. It would be so much easier on me if he broke up with me. I already talked to Ron about this and he said that he would try and convince Harry that things simply aren't working. He also said to get your opinion. You are around almost as much as him. I have to go. We need to talk-_

"You do know what's she's doing, don't you Weasley?" someone hissed in my ear. I turned sharply to find Malfoy reading over my shoulder. I pulled away sharply and flipped the note over. 

"And what's that?" I hissed back, looking at him angrily. The nerve. Reading my note. 

"She's using you to break up with Potter. Or can't you see that?" he sneered.

"Hermione would never do that," I sneered back completely believing it. She wouldn't. It's not in her nature to use people like that. At lease, I don't think it is. Not that I'll admit it to Malfoy. "What do you care anyway?"

"I don't," he drawled. "It's just that you're not supposed to read notes in class."

"So you just thought you'd read mine? See if it was worth turning in?" I shook my head angrily, folding the note back up. I'd go over it again latter when I had time. 

"If that's the way you want to see it," he drawled in response. "I really don't think Snape would care much about Potter's love life anyway. And you shouldn't either."

"You keep saying that," I hissed. "Is there something you would like to tell me?"

"Nope," he responded simply and went back to reading the text.

"Stupid git," I muttered and went to reading my own text. All the while thinking about Hermione and feeling awfully sorry for her. How could Harry expect her to stop studying and stuff? It's just stupid. Of course I'll help her. At the same time Malfoy's odd warning kept echoing in my head.

Mentally I shook it. What does Malfoy know anyway? He has no friends. How would he know not to help a friend in need. Damn Slytherin git.

~*~

The past few weeks have been more stressful than they should be. Father keeps sending me owls asking me for information about Dumbledore and other such things (most of which I don't answer properly). Or he gives me "tips" on becoming a Death Eater. He seems to think that as soon as I graduate I will be joining league with the Dark Lord. I think I will have to make a point of staying here for the Christmas holidays. I feel a potion project coming on.

I don't think I could put up with two and a half weeks of father's "tips". Even if he has my best interests in view. Perhaps he doesn't even have that. Perhaps he only wants me to join the Death Eaters so he can say I have actually become something and give him more credit. Who knows. 

But if I stay here that means those two idiots I call friends will be staying as well. I don't know if it is just me or if the two of them have gotten stupider. Perhaps I just grew out of them. Either way I can't stand they anymore. I don't care if they're loyal, they don't do anything worth while. But there is no one else to turn to in my house. The girls are all air-heads and the younger students are a waste of time. In other words I'm stuck with the two gorillas as companions in every class I take.

Every class that is, except potions. It's horrible of me to say, goes against everything I believe in, but I find the Weasley girl to be better company than Crabbe and Goyle. 

We have quite an odd relationship come to think about it. Entertaining almost if I wasn't involved in it. Sitting in class, working together, all the while trying to bring the other's ego as low as it can go. 

Talking to Weasley is like talking to no one else I have ever met before. It is far more entertaining than tormenting Potter or his Dream Team. She doesn't jump to hexing or physical violence at the first sign of trouble. Rather she fights me off verbally. Some of her stuff I must admit is rather sinister. She would have made a good Slytherin if she had not been a Weasley.

She's sitting there quite moodily right now, glaring at me from behind her flame red hair. Probably still pissed that I read her note. I don't know what came over me today though. Malfoy's don't read notes. But there was just something that caught my interest, so I read it. I never though that Granger had it in her to be so cunning. To use Weasley to dump Potter. Easy way to shift the self-blame to a scapegoat.

I don't even know why I said anything in the first place. It just came out before I realized what I was doing. The I had to follow through. Malfoys don't back down.

I don't see how it matters to me though. Potter's relationship with the Muddblood doesn't concern me in the slightest. I could care less. And if Weasley went down with them it would just mean an easier time for me to bring her down. No more putting up with her insufferable cheerfulness. 

Yet the whole situation just struck me as wrong. People should not be used like that. Not even Weasleys. I've seen it with my parents friends. The fights and insults and haunted looks. I suppose some part of me resents my parents for raising me in a world like that. Where a child grows up around gossip and betrayal. Perhaps I am simply sick of the cycle and warning Weasley was some way to stop it on some level.

But then I can't really talk. I don't really have anyone else to hang with so I use Crabbe and Goyle. It's true I guess, what they say: You live what you learn. My parents always used people to get what they wanted or needed so why should I have learnt any different. At least I'm not going out with either of them. God forbid I ever do.

Snape never did return to class until the end of the second block. Weasley hadn't talked to me the whole time. I didn't try to change that. It turns out that something big happened, but then I had assumed that already. Snape refused to comment but by lunch I was hearing that some fifth years had been foolish enough to go into the Forbidden Forest last night and were attacked by werewolves. I shudder at the thought. I hate werewolves.

None of the professors commented during lunch, probably hoping to use our fear of the unknown to keep us away from the forest. After lunch it was off to Care of Magical Creatures. Hagrid seemed quite distracted as he told us about some three headed dog. Like there could ever be a real thing like that. And why the hell would you call it _Fluffy_?

Anyway, Hagrid kept looking towards the forest as though expecting some terrible creature to jump out and gobble us up. No one else seemed to notice but it was making me uneasy. I notice these things. My entire life I have been told to be seen, not heard. Times like those cause one to revert to observations to keep interested. That or signing in your head. After a while you begin to pick up the little things no one else cares to notice. 

Deciding that observing Hagrid and his skitters was not good for my sanity I instead turn my attentions to Potter and Granger. Granger seemed to be right. They did seem more distant than they had been a few weeks ago. Still standing close together but not as loose. More ridged and formal. Not that I sit there and stare at them on a daily basis. It's the observing thing again.

Glancing to my right I am greeted with the most pleasant sight in the world: Crabbe picking his nose. Ugh. I turned away before I could see what he did with the product. Why the fuck do I hang out with these freaks? Backing away slowly I moved out of their plane of slight. They don't seem to notice. Slow as a stick on Sunday, they are. 

My life seems to have hit a pinnacle. Everywhere I look something annoys me. My father's attitude. My friends. My house. Even my interest in Potter's relationship annoys me. Perhaps if I walk over to that fence over there and bang my head against it repeatedly things will get better.

Resisting the urge I force myself to pay attention to the Gamekeeper gone professor.

"And now Fluffy is living a happy life on a wizarding ranch just outside London. Lots of room for him to run and stuff," the big dolt seemed to have gone misty eyed. I don't think I will ever get over that. The fact that the man is so powerful yet her tears up at the simplest things. It's just not right. "Now I want you all to read chapters six through eight for next class."

He then walked us back to the school. Now I know something is up. Homework in Care of Magical Creatures and being walked back to the castle. I can see that the Herbology students were being escorted as well. What the hell really happened?

~*~

A/N: Ok, I know it was shorter than the first chapter, but the first chapter was actually supposed to be the first 2 chapters. Oh well. Can you see a plot forming? I hope so. Ha Ha Ha. Oh I'm pathetic. What's next? Uh, stuff! And more notes and perhaps a few trees as well?

Many thankies to: **blackrose632, crazy_daisy**Times 5(I didn't know you could do that anymore . . . But thanks anyway!)**, Mytsie-Sama**(Wow, I hope my story didn't scar your whole perception of HP fics. JK. Mafloy rules!)**, Jedi Tess of Gryffindor**(I'm not the greatest H/H fan myself. So perhaps I will change that . . .)**, VirtualFaerie**(I like to screw around with their heads. It's fun! But your is so much better! You have a definitive plot! ~sigh~ Can't wait for your next chapter, so you better get hopping!)**, seekerpeeker**(He He, gay Draco. He He He. ~ehem~ Sorry.)** and Lallie the Lazy**( Yes, only smart people. But please! For Gods sake! Don't start singing! Unless it's in social . . . Anyhoo, I'm still waiting to see your musical!)

Thanks! And please, review again! It makes me oh so happy! Happy Snapey! Well it would be Happy Q but-


	3. More Depressing Notes

Title: The Truth About Trees

Author: Tiny Q

E-Mail: one_legged_lesbian_seagull@hotmail.com

A/N: Wow. Another chapter in about a week. Crazy! I've never been able to do that before. Now if I can type up the next two chapters I have written out, maybe by this time next week you'll get another. All depends on homework and Christmas wrapping. ~sigh~ Stupid school. Too many exams. I think I'm going crazy. Which can be both good and bad I suppose. Well yes, enough babble. On with the story!

Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING! Because I spent all my money x-mas shopping. 

****

The Truth About Trees

Chapter 3

More Depressing Notes

"Hermione, are you serious about all this?" I asked earnestly, half hoping she wasn't. The other half of me, the dark and cynical side, was secretly hoping for it. Then I wouldn't have to put up with them sitting there all the time. "I just can't see Harry acting like that. Let alone treating you like that."

"Well he has," Hermione said shortly, not looking me in the eye. I had found her on the way to the Great Hall and pulled her off to talk. If we didn't do it now I don't think there would be much opportunity since Harry and Ron are always around. "And it's making me feel terrible."

"Well I can see why," I agreed, looking out at the lake. It was an overcast, windy day. The water was turbulent, splashing against the shore and the trees around it thrashed at odd times towards the north. The air was crisp and I enjoyed the scent of it despite the less than cheerful circumstances from which we were walking around out here. "When did it all start?"

"After the Quidditch practice incident," Hermione confessed, still not looking me in the eye, choosing instead to look at the path we were on. "But I was noticing the lack of communication before that." She finally turned to look me in the eye. I held her gaze. "It's not a good situation Ginny. I love Harry but not the way he wants me to. He's my best friend, not my boyfriend. I don't want him to get hurt but I also can't stand it anymore. I have to get out of the relationship, but if I break up with him I'm scared of how he will take it." 

Why did you get into the situation in the first place then? It's not like you couldn't see that the relationship wouldn't go anywhere. You've known the guy for six years now, how could you not see that it wouldn't work? And how could you expect the relationship to last anyway? School relationships very rarely work out even if the couple did get married. Why bother? Why would you bother, Hermione?

All that roared through my head when she said that, but I couldn't voice any of it. She was obviously upset and my harping at her, no matter how realistic it seems to me, won't help her any. And she looked so tired walking there beside me. Not at all the strong willed girl I had come to trust and rely on.

"What do you mean your scared?" I asked her carefully. Did she mean that he could get violent? I would never dream of Harry doing anything of the sort. Harry was a hero, he didn't get violent with his friends. Girlfriend or not.

"Harry has a lot of issues," she responded, once again diverting her eyes. "You don't see them on the outside, but they're there. They're always there, just waiting to be dealt with. I don't want to add to them and make myself a channel to them. I want to go back to being friends, not enemies."

Too late for that. Either way you're going to hurt him. I doubt things will ever be the same for the two of you. Perhaps he won't hate you, but there will always be that distance, that the two of you failed to fit.

Once again I didn't speak my mind. "I understand that," I said soothingly. "Have you talked to him about it?"

"I've tried," she said, looking at the turbulent lake. "He doesn't think that there is anything wrong. He says that I've just been working too hard to spend any time with him. Which is complete rubbish. I always make time for him."

"I know you do," I responded softly. Really I didn't. I have really been trying to avoid sitting with them lately. It's getting to be too boring to stand. They always seem to be together however. Hermione remained silent. "So what are you going to do about it?"

"Well," she began slowly. "Ron said that he would try and convince Harry that things just aren't working between us. To make him think that it was his idea to break it off." That struck me as wrong but I kept it to myself. "And Ginny, I need your help as well."

I looked at her sharply to see her looking at me hopefully. 'She's using you,' Malfoy's words rang in my head. 'Or can't you see that?' Shut up. Hermione would never do that to me. She's my friend. I looked at her hoping to see this in her eyes. All I saw was my friend in distress. Pushing my doubts away I gave her a reassuring smile.

"Of course I'll help you, Hermione," I said confidently, though I had doubts aplenty that I actually could. "What can I do?"

She smiled at me with gratitude. "I need you to talk to Harry and convince him to break up with me."

"What?" I gasped before I could stop myself. I can't do that. I don't know him that well and it will seem mighty suspicious on my part if I just tell him that things don't seem right. How could I do that?

"Just talk to him," Hermione urged me. "That's all. Just talk. Tell him he doesn't look happy and that I don't either. Tell him you think we would both be better off as friends cause we seem happier that way. Stuff like that." She looked at me pleadingly.

"Well," I said slowly, my insides churning at the very thought. "I suppose I could try. I'm not promising anything though," I added hastily.

"That's all I ask," she responded, a large smile breaking out across her face."

~*~

It was Sunday today. As always on Sunday in the Slytherin Common Room, my house mates were frantically trying to complete their homework. This meant they were copying, cheating and generally yelling at each other. I never participated. My homework is always completed in class or, on the rare occasion, after classes on Friday. I'm not about to give my answers to these free riders.

"Crabbe! You can't write that!" Pansy cried in her annoyingly high pitched voice. Crabbe proceeded to turn exceedingly red in the face. Pansy then giggled.

Merlin I have to get out of here. Glancing around, I got up and went to my dorm to retrieve my cloak. No one noticed until I had it on and was on my way to the portrait hole.

"Draco, where're you going?" Goyle called over the tirade of cheating and shouting.

"For a walk," I called back and left before anyone could join me. As the portrait swung shut the noise ceased it's pounding against my ears.

They were all so dense. Does being evil mean you must be stupid as well? Or are they just the stupid minions and there is one or two leaders among them? Well there're definitely aren't any intelligent students in there except for me and I'm not evil.

Crabbe and Goyle were the worst of the lot. I can't believe they have passed enough to still be considered wizards. I am beginning to get the suspicion that their parents have been paying off the professors. 

Sleeping in the same dorm room is simply a nightmare. They bother snore so loudly. Sometimes they alternate so that the entire night is filled with the sound of Crabbe snoring then a brief pause as Goyle fills the silence then Crabbe again. Or they snore at the same time so there are long pauses of silence then the room reverberates with snores. I still haven't figured out which is worse.

It's times like those that I desperately wish I had accepted the position of Slytherin prefect. I had declined the position two years prior for it reminded me of that pompous Weasley too much. Why was I so stupid?

It was another gloomy day today. Pleasantly cool and not too windy. It seemed like this fall was not going to disappoint with the weather.

As is my usual habit, I headed towards the lake. The water always interested me. The fact that there could be a whole civilization beneath its surface was almost unbelievable. Sometimes I wish I could join them just to get away from my life. I mean, wasn't there some song that life was much better under the water? Some band called The Bugs or something like that? I'm not really into vintage music even if they were supposedly the best wizarding band in history.

As I rounded a corner on the path running along side the lake I see something, or rather, someone. Someone with long red hair. Who else could it be but Weasley. She was seated on a large rock over-looking the lake looking down at something in her hands. As I approached I realized it was a piece of parchment. I also realized she was not happy. Far from the bright and cheerful character I had grown accustomed to in potions.

She didn't realize I had approached until I was standing over her shoulder, reading the apparent letter. A sign that she was deeply distressed.

It was Potter's writing on the parchment. I would know it anywhere. Not that I stalk him or anything. Cause I don't. It's just that he has very distinctive writing. That's all.

"So now Potter's telling you his side?" I drawled, skimming over the first few lines of the note. She jumped and snatched it out of sight before turning to me with a frown.

"Don't do that," she snapped.

"Do what?" I asked innocently.

"That creepy stalky thing," she explained, narrowing her eyes. "You nearly gave me a heart attack."

"I did not creepily stalk up here," I snapped back. "I approached quite noisily, stepping on twigs and all. It's not my fault that you're too daft to realize it."

She gave me a dirty look then proceeded to glare out at the lake, ignoring me. I stood there for a while beginning to feel quite foolish. I was getting the feeling that she would not look at me unless I walked away. So I did the only thing I could do: I sat down next to her. I'm not sure why I did it. Perhaps I simply don't like to be ignored.

"What do you think you're doing?" she snapped at me, finally turning to look.

"Sitting down," I drawled back. "It's a free world." 

She narrowed her eyes and glared out at the lake once again. Her hands were twisting the parchment and a part of me was curious as to what the rest of it said. But what do I care? It doesn't concern me.

"I told you not to get involved," I said before I realized what I was doing. Why would I say that? It doesn't matter to me.

She turned and looked at me in a measuring way. There was nothing but seriousness in her eyes and expression. No cheerfulness whatsoever. It was quite queer really. It doesn't suit her. It doesn't- where the hell did _that_ come from?! She's a Weasley for Merlin's sake. A potato sac could suit her for all I care!

"I know that," she said coldly, narrowing her eyes. "I knew it from the moment they told me to keep it a secret. I don't even know why I involved myself. But I did and now I can't go back and change it. They're having a problem and as their friend it is my duty to try and help them through it. That's what friends do."

"Even at the cost of you getting more problems than them?" I asked immediately after her little speech. A small smirk playing across my face.

"You wouldn't understand, Malfoy," she said darkly. "You don't have any friends to concern yourself with."

Ok. I wasn't expecting that. I looked at her with a mixture of fury and disbelief. I have heard that from others multiple times but I never would have expected it from her. She never, ever takes low shots like that. Even it I do the same back to her.

I tried to think of something terrible to say back to her but I couldn't find the words. She was right. I really didn't have any friends to worry about. Everyone I do consider a friend is a brainless dolt and there is nothing one can do to help them.

All I could do was stare back at her, hoping my face was not betraying all of the emotions that were roaring through my mind. I learnt at a young age that you must never trust your emotions to anyone. My father is such a cold bastard.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly after a moment of stunned silence. "I shouldn't have said that. I don't know what came over me."

"Reality," I said bitterly. "You're hurting so you lash out. I'm used to it," I added as an after thought. Once again my father's doing.

She stared at me wide eyes as though realizing something for the first time. I looked away angrily. I hate when people stare. It annoys me. You never know what they're thinking when they do it. 

"Would you stop it already?" I finally snapped.

"Sorry," she whispered and her eyes fell to her lap where the parchment lay. I followed her eyes to it.

"So what did Potter have to say?" I asked. I really have to get a hold of my words. They shouldn't be slipping out like that. It's hazardous to one's health. Especially someone like me who has an evil image to up keep. 

She silently handed it to me, not looking up. Looking at her for a moment I unrolled the parchment and proceeded to read.

_Ginny,_

People keep telling me that I seem depressed lately. But I haven't been! The last few weeks have been some of the best in my life. I know I have been extra tried lately with Quidditch starting up again. Perhaps you are all just mixing up my tiredness with depression. I just wanted to get that out of the way.

Hermione told me to talk to you. That you would fill me in on everything that is going on. She won't tell me herself. She says that I should know already. I'm getting worried Gin. She won't talk to me. She never wants to do anything anymore. And when ever I try to talk to her about it she gets all hissy and defensive.

To make matters she seems to be spending a lot of time with Ron. And enjoying it.

I don't see why. Weasley is a stick in the mud. And stupid as one to boot. But then she is going out with Potter to begin with. Obviously the girl doesn't have very high standards.

_Hermione is not sure if she still likes me or not. She said she will think about it. Also seeing what I put her through and what I've done to her makes me feel horrible. I feel I don't even deserve to be her boyfriend._

This is not how I envisioned my first relationship to end, so I'm not going to let it die so easily. I'd very much appreciate it if you help me to keep it alive.

Now on a lighter note Hagrid said that he's getting in a shipment of Jarveys soon. Should be interesting. See? Not everything's dark and depressing.

Harry.

Not everything is dark and depressing? Who writes that? What utter bull shit. As if that could possibly cheer her up. But then, it's not like I know either. Or care for that matter. She _is_ a Weasley.

"So they're pulling you in both directions?" I concluded finally. The girl beside me nodded miserably. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know," she said quietly. "I haven't seen any proof to what my brother and Hermione have been saying. I simply can't see Harry acting as terribly as they are making him out to. It's not in his nature." I had to agree with her there. Sure Potter was an ass but he wasn't the type to subdue his girlfriend. "But I have to think of something soon," she continued. "Because he keeps asking me what's up and I keep telling him I'm not really sure and that I need more time to think about it. He's getting impatient though. I can't beat about the bush forever."

"Well, just tell him the truth," I offered. A part of me wanted to see Potter fall but another part of me was quite appalled at my words. I told it to shove it. "Tell him that his girl is no longer interested and that he should move on."

"It'll crush him," Ginny sighed. "I don't want to see him get hurt. And I'll feel terrible if I'm the one who's got to tell him."

"He's going to get hurt anyway," I explained reasonably. Why couldn't she see that? If Granger takes him back then he will always be suspicious as to why she did. And if she doesn't then he will feel rejection. Either way, it's a lose-lose situation. "And that terrible feeling you can blame Granger for. Probably Potter as well, but then I don't know the whole story."

She looked at me for a moment with no expression on her face. I was beginning to think that perhaps she was going to hurt me. Then she sort of smiled. Not a whole smile but it couldn't be described as anything else.

"Thanks," she said finally and stood up.

"Where are you going?" I asked in spite of myself.

"To the Common Room. I think it's time I explain a few things." Shoving the parchment in her pocket she left.

I sat there for about an hour afterwards, simply thinking. Why was I taking such an interest in the youngest Weasley? She was a Weasley after all and I a Malfoy. Our families have hated each other for centuries. Possibly even a millennia if I cared to look back that far. So why do I have this sudden interest? 

But then how do I know my great great great great grandfather didn't have an interest in her great great great great grandmother? How do I even know it's an interest? Perhaps it's just animal magnetism. Perhaps- Oh I'm pathetic. Who am I trying to kid? I'm interested in the Weasley girl and I _do_ care if she gets hurt in the predicament Potter and Granger have made for her. I just hope to Merlin that my father never finds out.

~*~

My encounter with Malfoy was odd. I was expecting him to act like he does in potions. Be all sarcastic and insulting. But instead he was almost, well, nice. I never thought I would see the day. And not only that, he was helpful. Scary.

On the way to the Common Room I planned out what I was going to say: Harry, I think Hermione is being very selfish and that you deserve better. Stop this thing now before matters get worse and you can no longer be friends. 

I didn't even get nervous when I saw him sitting there alone or when he told me to come up to his dorm room to talk in private. Malfoy's words seemed to have filled me with confidence. Creepy but true.

"So where is everyone?" I asked, looking around the dorm. What a sty.

"Library. Studying most likely," Harry said, pacing about.

"And Hermione?"

"In her room, studying as well I presume."

You did hear him right. Hermione has her own room. Comes with the job of being Head Girl. A room all to herself and the professor's favors. Not that I really care. It's just-

"So you're finally ready to tell me everything?" Harry's voice interrupted my thoughts. I looked up to see him staring down at me. I nodded and walked over to Ron's bed and sat down.

"I'm sorry about that," I said quietly. "There's just so much information and I don't want you to get the wrong impression." Well that sounded corny.

"I understand that," he said and if I wasn't sure might have thought he had said it with impatience. "What has Hermione been saying?"

"Well," I started slowly. I had to tread lightly. One wrong word and he could break. Or so Hermione says. "She said she's not happy. Not happy at all."

"I know that," he said curtly. "Why is she not happy?"

"She said you don't listen to her. That you wont let her do her own things." At his face I hastily added: "I don't believe it though. I haven't seen any proof of what she claims. For all I know it's all part of her imagination."

"I see," he responded. "Tell me more."

"Uh," I faltered. I wasn't expecting him to be quite so demanding. All the ideas that were blossoming in my head on the way here suddenly decided to make their absence known. This wasn't going well. My defense was crumbling. What could I say? That she wants to break up with him? But he wants this thing to survive. "What do you want to know?"

"What do I need to do to get things back to normal?" he demanded, stopping his pacing to stand before me. He seemed very tall.

"I don't know if that is possible, Harry," I said softly looking down at my hands. I was wringing them like mad. Not a good sign.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean- I- Just," I stammered. "I don't know what I mean! I don't know what to do! I don't know what to say!" I leapt to my feet and began to pace as he had paced moments before. "On the one hand one of you wants to keep the relationship going and on the other doesn't. I feel like the two of you are forcing me to choose sides! That you're forcing me to be involved!"

"But didn't you choose to be involved?" he asked, not moving from his spot. "Haven't you already chosen sides?"

"No. I haven't," I snapped. Stopping my pacing I turned to face him, violently brushing the hair from my face. "You're both my friends and I don't want to see either of you get hurt. I had no choice but to help! Neither of you gave me a choice!"

He stared at me blankly for a moment and I began to get this sinking suspicion that I had said the wrong thing. Great Ginny. Turn the situation so it's about yourself instead of him and Hermione. Just dandy. What a friend you are.

"So you think I should break it off?" he asked me finally. His eyes had gone large and his face pale. I felt awful. Worse than awful. Dreadful. Damn Hermione for starting this damn thing. Damn her to hell.

"Yes. Yes I do," I said seriously. He nodded once then diverted his eyes to the ground.

There was a knock on the door and we both jumped. He gestured for me to hide behind the drawings and I complied.

"I'll be right back," he whispered and left the room, closing the door behind him.

I sat down cross legged and began to think. He looked so crushed. Did I do the right thing? Should I have told him? Or should I have told him I couldn't say anything and that I didn't want to be involved?

He was taking an awful large amount of time out there with whoever had knocked. I couldn't hear any voices but I was beginning to get the feeling that it was Hermione out there. What would the chances be?

I only waited about five minutes but it felt more like an hour. I kept doubting what I had said. Did I really do the right thing? Would Harry be ok? Would he hate me for it? I don't think we're going to be as close friends anymore. I don't think any of us are.

The door opened and Harry walked in. He looked terrible. He was slouching and looked at though he had just lost a Quidditch match. He had a book in his hands.

"That was Hermione," he explained, following my gaze. "I left my book in her room when we were studying this afternoon." He looked down at the book as though trying to prove it wasn't real. "We broke up."

"You did?" I gasped, my eyes going wide. "I'm so sorry Harry." I couldn't think of anything else to say. I've never been in a situation like this before. It seemed the appropriate thing to say.

"We both agreed to break it off," he continued. "We decided to go back to being friends. To the way it was before."

"Are you ok?" I asked softly, getting to my feet and cautiously approaching. I've never seen Harry like this. I don't know how he'll act.

"Yeah, I think I am," he said looking up and smiling. It was a weak smile. "Thanks. For everything I mean." I nodded a little awkwardly. "But if you don't mind, I would like to be alone for a bit."

"Of course," I responded earnestly. As I made for the door I lightly touched his shoulder. As the door closed I heard the book hit the wall.

~*~

A/N: Well that's it for now! Wasn't it just fantastic? Yeah right. Well yes, don't think that I have forgotten about the Forbidden Forest bit. I remember. I just have to get a few things out of the way before I introduce that little, uh, dilemma. He He He. 

Thanks muchly to: **Dark Angel**(Yes, I hope it wont take too long)**, liltrick89, VirtualFaerie**(That's right, start hopping. And I still say yours is better! Sorry about the coke though . . .)**, Mytsie-Sama**(Ha Ha Ha! I don't even dare go near that section. ~shudder~ Anyhoo, yes it was a typo. My stuff is riddled with them. ~sob~ Don't resist! Draw! Draw! Then send me the results!)**, Sharlene, mell, fizzyglitter**(I'm so ashamed of myself)**, Lallie**(Screw physics! I wanna read it! Well yes, the idea for Herm is largely influenced by Zooroo who has this major problem with her. Ha Ha Ha! So do I though. Or at lest that bloody Emma chich. ~sigh~ Oooh! Spotlight on Sum 41!)**, paranoidchick 13 **and **cgrwchick631**!

Thanks ever so much! ~grin~ Now hit that little button and make me grin wider!


	4. It's All Riddle's Fault

Title: The Truth About Trees

Author: Tiny Q

E-Mail: one_legged_lesbian_seagull@hotmail.com

A/N: This chapter too was not posted when I intended cause my stupid modem broke. Sorry all. But look! Another chapter! La La La! Well yes, hopefully you will find this entertaining. I like the next chapter much better myself. But that will probably mean you will all hate it. Woe is me. Oh well, it's Christmas holidays so I will hopefully be able to type the next chapter up soon.

Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING! Well except that crappy quote down there . . .

****

The Truth About Trees

Chapter 4

It's All Riddle's Fault!

The truth about trees is that you can't trust them. Sure, if you fall out of one it will give you a revelation but at what cost? Your whole world can be turned upside-down by a simple elevated branch and gravity. Sanity could be lost. Paranoia gained. Or perhaps, if you are lucky, you will learn something about yourself and realize a new piece of your identity. Whatever the cost though, trees are not to be trusted.

~*~

The next few weeks that followed Harry and Hermione's break-up were the worst so far this year. Despite a note from Hermione telling me how relieved and happy she was that the relationship was over, we barely talked. On the other hand Harry seemed to be incapable of shutting up. He always seemed to have something to say about anything. It was as though he were scared to lose his voice if he didn't.

Harry also seemed to be spending a fair amount of time with Neville as opposed to Ron and Hermione. Neville didn't seem to mind in the slightest. The guy's a drifter, going from one group to the next but eventually everyone wants to settle down. Not only Harry's friends were shifting but Ron and Hermione were spending an awful lot of time together. They ignore everyone else except when they are feeling suddenly bad about it.

Halfway through the week before Halloween, Harry and I had a long chat about how things were lately. It was all rather depressing and halfway through the next day I came down with a bad cold. Madame Pomfrey gave me a Pepper-Up potion but it didn't help. The steam that poured out of my ears only gave me a headache. I ended up spending the rest of the week in the infirmary.

I came to the conclusion that everyone who came to visit me was a true friend. I'm not sure exactly where the idea came from, possibly all the potions I was under. Anyhoo, Sara, a girl from my Advanced Medicines class was the first to visit. We've always got along. Next was Colin who spent a lot of time updating me on the day's events. Then Hermione showed up and I almost cried with relief thinking she hadn't forgotten me and that we're still friends. 

All she did was complain though. About herself. It wasn't exactly the best visit. Ron showed up a few hours latter, probably out of brotherly obligation. Harry showed up briefly as well, but only to see if I had seen Ron or Hermione around. It seemed as though the two of them had given him the slip.

The oddest visit of all however was Malfoy. He showed up after I had gotten ready to take a nap. He gave me a pile of potions homework to do and said I better get well soon because Snape would dock more marks than he already had. With that, he left. No insults about my appearance or anything.

I was better by Monday and had to work my ass off to catch up on all my work. It had been nice to have a weekend without having to see Harry, Hermione and my brother. I never really realized how worn out the whole ordeal made me until I was lying on that hospital bed not having to deal with it.

The whole of the next week I didn't talk to Hermione. Ron didn't talk much either except when it came to brotherly things like: You're skirts too short. Go change it. On Halloween I found out from Neville that Hermione and Ron were going out. It was quite a shock actually. Ron hadn't said anything. I decided to not say anything to them and wait for them to tell me on their own time. I'm still waiting. I guess so is Harry, though he has his suspicions.

If I thought that I could find help I would have instantly turned to Colin. And I intended to do just that until the middle of last week when he excitedly told me he had a girlfriend. A very pretty Ravenclaw whom I never really noticed. For a while I felt quite hear broken, but I'm not sure why. He was just so happy though and I just couldn't burden him with my problems. They are my own after all. I got myself into this. I will just have to get myself out.

It's a Hogsmead weekend today and I have been trailing behind Ron and Hermione for the past hour. Harry and Neville are doing the same to me. It's so boring. Perhaps if I go running towards that brick wall they'll notice me or at least I'll be put out of my misery. Albeit for a short time. Either way it'll be a change from this damn mundaneity. Is that even a word? See how bored I am?

And there's still an hour to kill before I have to leave. Our new potion is at a critical stage right now. It needs to be stirred constantly so Malfoy and I have been taking two hour shifts all day. We get higher marks if we do it ourselves rather than enchant the ladle to stir. This would be my last one. Then the potion simply has to simmer until Monday then Malfoy and I will be finding out what it's like to see ourselves.

I will be sacrificing Pigwidgeon to test the Gamma potion. It makes clones of whoever's bit is in the potion out of the animal. I really hope Pig doesn't remain looking like Malfoy permanently. It was hard enough trying to explain to Ron why I sounded like the Slytherin, it would be entirely different to explain why his pet _looked_ like him.

"I don't see how you can wear your hair down all the time," Ron was saying to Hermione. As to why my ears suddenly chose to listen to this part of the conversation I don't know. "Doesn't it drive you crazy with it in your face all the time?"

"No," Hermione giggled. "I'm used to it." They paused for a moment then turned around to look at me. 

"Why do _you_ wear your hair down all the time?" Ron asked. "You always wore it up during the summer."

"Huh?" I asked in confusion. No one's ever asked me _that_ before let alone my own brother. "What's wrong with leaving my hair down?"

"Nothing," he responded and turned back to Hermione. Fifty-five minutes left. I'm not going to make it. Avada Kadavara me now. Put me out of my misery. Glancing behind me, Harry and Neville are in deep conversation about something. Dean Thomas. Not too entertaining.

"You guys want to get a Butterbeer?" Hermione suddenly called from the front of our small group. 

Everyone nodded. I simply shrugged. Might kill a bit of time. Killing time is always good. Very good indeed. So off we went to the Three Broomsticks for a drink. Tasting it I instantly wished it was stiffer. And I don't like alcohol that much. But the conversation was lacking something. Perhaps myself? All four of them were once again talking to each other, leaving me out. Fine.

Forty minutes left. Fuck it. I'm leaving. I stood to leave. 

"Ginny, where are you going?" Harry asked, looking up at me.

"I have to stir the potion," I responded, grabbing my bag. "I told you that earlier."

"But you didn't finish your Butterbeer," Neville observed.

"You can have it," I offered and made to leave.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Harry offered moving to stand. "Fend off Malfoy for you?"

"No that's ok," I said hastily. The last thing I need right now is a cock fight. "I can fend him off just fine."

"Well, if you're sure . . ." he said slowly, obviously not trusting my abilities.

"I'm sure. Later." And then I left. The cool outdoor air hit my face and I sighed in relief. Ron and Hermione hadn't even cared that I left. Barely a goodbye. Just a stupid wave from them both. Stupid gits.

They're really starting to piss me off with the whole 'ignore the little sister' bit. It's almost as if I've spent the usefulness I had to break Hermione and Harry up and now I've been tossed aside. If they had that in mind the whole time I'm going to be pissed. If it's intentional then they bloody well used me. Used me to do the dirty. What utter bull.

I stomped my way up the school steps. I didn't even realize I was at the school yet. Either I walked really fast or I was lost in thought for a long time. It was probably a bit of both. I'm twenty minutes early but who cares. I'd rather take Malfoy's insults over the Dream Team's shunning. What do they think I am? A pawn to be used in their stupid lives? Put into place then sacrificed once I have lost my strategic stance? I think I have been playing too much chess with Ron. But then-

"Weasley, what are you doing here?" Malfoy demanded as I walked into the potions room. He was seated on the desk beside the cauldron in which our scarlet potion brewed. There was no one else in the room meaning that the other groups were already finished or hadn't gotten to this stage yet. With that lot it could go either way. "Can't you tell time?"

"Perfectly," I responded and sat myself down on the opposite side of the cauldron. The table creaked a bit but I ignored it.

"Then why are you here so bloody early?" he hissed, pausing in his stirring to look at me. I ignored him and looked at the potion itself. It looked as though it would taste like cherries. Hermione loves cherries. 

"Does it matter?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Oh." Then I shrugged. "Too bad I guess, cause I'm not leaving."

He glared at me but remained silent. I didn't attempt to start a conversation deciding to pick a tile on the floor and stare at it. This silent situation wasn't nearly as bad as the one I was in moments before. I don't feel used or neglected here despite the fact Malfoy wasn't talking to me.

"You can't stand it, can you, Weasley?" He said after about five minutes. Scratch the no talking bit. 

"Take what?" I asked, turning away from my tile to look at him. I think I would have preferred the tile.

"Them. Potter and his gang," he elaborated.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I responded stiffly. What did he care anyway? To him I'm just another Weasley.

"Oh come off it," he snapped. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

I looked at him coldly. He looked at me impassively. Stupid dolt. I opened my mouth to tell him off. But instead of insults the entire story started to issue forth from my mouth. I don't know why, but it did. All of it. From the secrets to my feelings. Malfoy remained silent through the entire thing, his eyes not leaving my face.

"And so I left," I concluded, not looking at him. My face was burning. How could I have said all that? To _him_?! A Malfoy! He's going to laugh! He's going to insult me, tell me I'm stupid for getting involved. Oh life is shit.

But the wave of insults and jabs never came. In fact, he didn't respond at all. So I pulled my head up and looked at him. He was looking back at me with a slight frown, obviously lost in thought. I waved my hand before his eyes. He started and looked at me properly.

"So that's the whole story?" he asked finally, still stirring the potion.

"Yeah," I responded then looked at his hands. "Why don't you let me take over?" After a moment he passed me the handle of the spoon and I began to stir. The potion was thin. Almost ready to simmer. Half-hour maybe.

"Well it couldn't have been much fun to hang around them anyway," Malfoy said after a moment, now watching my hands stir. 

"Lately it hasn't," I admitted. "They really don't do much if they have no mystery to solve. Just hang about like lumps on the couch. Suppose it comes with being heroes." The last part came out with more bitterness than I wanted.

"If you weren't having fun then what's the big deal Weasley?" he drawled. I looked at him. Why was I telling him everything?

"Because I'm sick of being used," I hissed quietly, reflecting five years back. It had been his father that started the whole cycle. With that bloody diary and Tom Riddle inside. Ever since he used me to open the Camber of Secrets I've had some sort of inferiority complex. I thought I had gotten over it but obviously I hadn't. I let Harry and Co walk right over me just as I let the girls in my dorm do and multiple others.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked seriously. 

I wonder if he knows what happened to me in the Chamber. Few people do and I don't like to share. It wasn't exactly the pinnacle of my life. He probably heard all about it from his father the bloody wanker.

"Nothing," I sighed. I really didn't want to go through the whole story. I'd already said enough. "Forget I said anything."

"You shouldn't say things unless you plan to elaborate on them, Weasley," he said tiredly as though those same lines had been repeated to him for a long time. I wonder if it was his father as well.

"I'll keep that in mind." I paused in my stirring and looked down. The potion no longer gave any resistance to the spoon and was now a light pale purple. "I think it's ready to simmer," I said with mild surprise. It shouldn't be at this stage yet. Looking at my watch I realized that that half hour had already passed. Time flies.

Malfoy lowered the heat of the fire under the cauldron. All we had to do now was let it simmer until Monday's class when we could test it. 

We sat there for a few minutes in silence. I began to feel immensely uncomfortable and rose to my feet. "I'll see you later," I said quietly and left.

~*~

Weasley's last statement left me reeling. Even after retiring to my bed a few hours later I find myself staring up at the canopy, my curtains drawn shut. What did she mean by she's sick of being used? 

Potter and Granger did a pretty good job of it recently but she implied that it had happened more than once. She didn't seem like the type of girl who would stand to be pushed about. In fact she has proven it to me by never backing down in our little fights.

But perhaps she meant more subtle usage. Like how I use Crabbe and Goyle. Come to think of it, the girl doesn't seem to have many friends. A few acquaintances that would sit by her during meal times or in the library but they never stayed around if someone else showed up. I've observed this over the past few months. 

Even that kind of usage wouldn't leave such a deep imprint though. No. Something bigger must have happened. Something worse. But what? A failed relationship? Abusive boyfriend? What could it be? And I doubt she will tell me. But then she told me all about Potter and his girlfriend-

But then why is this getting to be so important to me? Don't I have a life? Come to think of it, I don't. Insulting people and being an arrogant little bastard used to be my old hobby. Now that that's over with I need something to fill the void. But why a Weasley? I suppose it's better that it's the female version over the male. But still. A Weasley! Father will kill me if he finds out.

Eventually I managed to fall asleep. I had an odd dream about potions and the Forbidden Forest but was awoken by Crabbe asking for homework that I forgot. It's nearly impossible to remember a dream if your sleep is disrupted. Stupid dolt.

It's Sunday today and the Slytherin System of Cheating has once again begun. Have these people no shame? Obviously not. I don't even know why I bother.

Everywhere I look my housemates are screaming at each other or fighting. I honestly don't understand it. How hard is it to do your homework?

Standing there I suddenly felt very alone. I had nothing in common with these people except cunning. I am sincerely beginning to doubt that they even have that. Do other houses act like this? I doubt it. What would life be like if I had been sorted into a different house? Would I have real friends, not these retards?

Father probably would have disowned me. But then I wouldn't have to worry about my on coming inauguration into the Death Eater ranks. I wouldn't have any money either, but then, the Weasleys have no money and they always seem so happy. 

Maybe it would inspire me to know what to do with my life. At the moment I'm still at a loss. All I know for sure is that I don't want to be an instrument for someone else's dream. That narrows down my options. A lot. I don't think there is such a career. What does it take to be happy in this bloody world?

Looking around the madness before me I felt my spirits drop farther. With a growl in my mind I stormed out of the Portrait hole and headed in the general direction of the library. Perhaps there would be something in there that could help me. Insanity is not far off if I don't figure things out. 

Passing by a window I realized just how wonderful a day it was. Wonderfully gloomy that is. Summoning my cloak via a summoning charm I headed quickly for the main doors. Perhaps some air would do me good. At the very least it would clear my mind. If only for a little while. 

It was colder out than it looked from the window. But then we were into November. Snow would be coming soon and with it Christmas. I still hadn't figured out how I was going to stay at the school and ditch Crabbe and Goyle. Maybe I could-

"Hey Malfoy," someone called. It was Weasley's voice. I looked around but I couldn't see her anywhere. "Up here," she called and I looked up. There she was, hanging from a tree branch by both knees. I hadn't even realized I was near the lake.

"What are you doing up there?" I called up, walking closer to the tree so I wouldn't have to yell. She was about ten feet above the ground.

"I'm waiting for another revelation," she explained. "I need to find direction for my life. The only way I know how to do that is by falling out of a tree. It doesn't seem to be happening though."

I stared up at her and wished I was up there as well. Perhaps falling out of a tree again would help me. Merlin knows I need it. But then what did she know about revelations and trees?

"Well, aren't you going to tell me how stupid I am?" she asked, looking down at me. Her hair seemed to be double its normal length, catching in the clouded light.

"No," I responded simply. 

_That_ made her fall. Head first she plummeted to the ground like a dewinged angel. With that quickness that seemed to present itself around her, I caught her. She looked up at me wide-eyed as I held her securely in my arms. Well this is cozy. Ugh. Did I just think that about a Weasley?

"Why'd you do that?" she demanded softly. Good question. "And what do you know about revelations and trees?" 

"Been there, done that," I responded simply. Why did I just tell her that? "And the way you were falling the only revelation you were going to have was a broken neck."

We stared at each other for a moment. A funny feeling was tugging at my insides. A funny feeling that was vaguely familiar and not exactly unpleasant. I did the only thing I could do: I set her on her feet and stepped back.

She looked rather disappointed. Despite my reasoning, I felt it. I don't even want to _think_ about what that means. Don't make me.

"So what are you doing out here?" she asked after a minute or so of awkward silence. "Shouldn't you be doing your homework?"

"Finished already," I responded, looking at her. There was something different about her that I didn't notice last night. Her cloak was hanging form a lower tree branch and she stood there clad in low-rise flares and a blue long sleeved shirt. Then it struck me. She had lost weight. A lot of it. I could see her collar bones sticking out from under her shirt. She had been slim before but now she was borderline unhealthy.

"Me too," she responded, going to fetch her cloak and putting it back on. That was why I hadn't noticed it before. She was wearing her cloak yesterday and the cloak hid her apparent weight loss. I frowned slightly. "Everyone in my house is still working on theirs so I left."

"And then you go the bright idea to fall out of a tree," I sneered slightly. We started walking around the lake, brushing shoulders every now and then.

"I guess you could put it that way," she conceded softly, down casting her head. Her long, fire-red hair blocked her face from view like a shield. She often did that in class when she was sick of talking.

After walking in silence for a few minutes I finally asked the question that had been nagging at me all last night: "Weasley, what did you mean yesterday?"

"Huh?" she asked in confusion, lifting her head to look at me. Her brown eyes revealed that she was dreading what I was about to ask. I asked anyway.

"About being used," I elaborated. Her eyes widened slightly. She must have guessed right. 

"What do you care?" she sneered, her eyes narrowing. "What's it to you?" Is it that bad?

"It's bothering me," I confessed before I realized what I was saying. Why? Why can I never keep anything in around her? "I want to know."

She looked at me through narrow eyes. It was as though she was trying to read my mind and find the plot I had to bring about her downfall. Finally she closed her eyes and put her head in her hands. With a deep breath she lowered them and looked at me. This time there was no venom in her features.

"You know about the Chamber of Secrets right?" she asked seriously. I frowned. What could that possibly have to do with anything?

"Yeah. It was reopened five years ago," I responded, trying to keep my confusion out of my voice. "Wasn't some girl taken down there and Potter saved her?" After I said it I realized what was coming next. She needn't have told me.

"Yes. And that _some girl_ was me," she hissed slightly, eyes clouding over as though remembering it. 

Why did I have to be right? Why couldn't I have been wrong? "How did you get mixed up into that?"

"You're father gave me a diary that contained Tom Riddle's sixteen year old memories," she explained after a moment and I felt my heart stop. My father? "And me being the fool I am I trusted it and he eventually took me over and made me do terrible things." 

"What?" I gasped. I hadn't been expecting _that_. "That bastard!"

"Who? Riddle?" she asked in confusion.

"No. My father," I hissed. I could feel the anger burning inside me. "I _hate_ that man! How could he try and ruin your life like that? What a coward! I _hate_ him!"

"I though you idolized him," she whispered, looking at me wide-eyed. She obviously hadn't been expecting the outburst. Can't say I blame her.

"Not anymore," I assured her. "I had a revelation a couple of years ago. I want to be nothing like him."

She remained silent looking at me. Well it all made sense now. My father was behind it all. My bloody, god damn, fucking father. How many lives did he plan to ruin before his own was over? Was that his goal in life? Make others miserable? Create as much misery as he could? The bloody-

"How did you get the revelation?" she asked quietly, brining my thoughts back to the situation at hand.

"It's stupid really," I responded after a moment. "But then perhaps not to you." She looked at me expectantly. "I fell out of a tree," I finally sighed.

"What kind?"

"Oak," I said off-handedly. Her yes widened.

"Me too," she whispered. "Creepy." After a moment she spoke again: "Well Malfoy, I guess we have more in common that I initially thought. I do think your revelation was a good one to have though. Nothing stupid about it at all." She smiled at me with a smile that lit up her eyes. I felt that feeling again. Perhaps it was a good thing to have come out her after all.

~*~

A/N: Well once again I have managed to bring Riddle into another one of my fics. ~sigh~ And I know it's so over done. But what can I say? It's interesting to me. Oh well. Next chapter will not be as focused on Ginny as much. It's Dracy time! He He He!

Many thankies to: **Darcel**(Thank you)**, T.H**(Why thank you! ~blushes~ I love making cliffy's myself. SO much fun! But the whole death thing is a little creepy. ~sigh~)**, seekerpeeker**(I would be Draco's friend. If only he was real)**, VirtualFaerie**(Well that's an interesting word)**, Sharlene**(Uh, no comment!)**, Weasley Pride**(It's a bitch, isn't it??)**, Jade Stellar**(Why must people always put their friends in this bloody situation? Why?! Ah, sorry.)**, Mytsie-Sama**(Trust me, I'm not either. Like that Cassandra Claire story? I love it, but I just don't like H/Hr, oh well. Can't wait for the comic though! Yeah!)**, Eleoopy**(The analysis thing will come into play a bit latter. Don't you worry. And Snape is picky! Picky Snape. He He He)**, tulzdavampslayer**times 2(Trees are great. And that image will be coming soon. Don't you worry.)**, rhapsody in pink**(I don't like her either. My friend really doesn't like her and I think that's why I have made her so detestable. Herm's really not that bad in the books, right?)**, liltrick89**(Sorry about the soon part)**, Katie Crickett**(Thank you)**, Lallie**(Honey, this is my story and I will hurt all the books I want! Ha! ~Tiny Q stabs a copy of the green book with the legs on it~ I never liked that one anyway.)**, VirtualFaerie** uh, again(Well it seems that we are both in the same position then. But I don't see why you would want to write like me. And yes, smiling does improve your complexion, though I found the old bookmark where I read it and it's supposed to be your face value, but that's just stupid. :~) I think I'm going to start carrying spoons. My school's hazardous)** and Sad Strange Little Girl**(Well, that was odd. A Room With a Moose?!?! That was stuck in my head all night I hope you know!)

Reviews would be oh-so-nice! ~grin~ Please??

****

Happy Christmas and a Merry New Year!!


	5. Let it Snow!

Title: The Truth About Trees

Author: Tiny Q

E-Mail: one_legged_lesbian_seagull@hotmail.com

A/N: Bla. Sorry about not posting this for so long. I've had it written for about 2 months now (along with the next 2 chapters) I just didn't feel like typing them up. I feel uninspired. This story seems like it is getting so bloody cliched. Bah. Whatever. On with the story. Oh, I own nothing. But then, how could you forget??

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The Truth About Trees

Chapter 5

Let it Snow! 

It was a week after my conversation about trees with Malfoy that Hermione approached me. During the week I had told Harry a few things that were bothering me about her. He had asked and they had just sort of slipped out.

That tends to happen to me when I'm angry. Like how I insulted Malfoy about a month ago when he as only trying to help. But for him to have just brushed me off and say that he was used to that sort of thing still boggles my mind. How could you be used to that sort of thing? I think Malfoy's life is more troubled than he lets on. I have a feeling that all those problems start at home . . .

Anyways, I was telling you about Hermione, wasn't I? Sorry. Well yes, she approached me saying we had to talk. It turns out that the rift between her and Harry had been troubling her so she attempted to talk to him. They got into an argument, as they have often been doing lately, and Harry told her off using me as an example as one of the 'everyone's that have a problem with her.

She ranted and raved for a bit and I tried to respond to her as honestly as possible. That was difficult though since I agreed with most of the stuff people have been saying about her. She was complaining a lot lately. And she was not trying to make others happy over herself. It was all her.

When she finally asked how I felt about all of it I told her flat out: I feel used. She paused at this, seeming to think, then began an explanation turning my feelings into her problem until it had to do with something about her and Harry rather my feeling used. I don't see how that works. How can my feeling used have anything to do with her problems with Harry?! Harry and her arguing, making her feel like shit does _not_ make me feel used! Being the go-between for their arguing does. But then, that's not what she meant.

And so we got along for a whole day before the cycle started over again. The distancing between us. Harry trying hard to engage me in conversation and me feeling like I had no one to talk to. It was maddening!

Which leads me up to where I am now, looking at a note my friend Sara has left me. Turns out she has noticed my being down lately and has opted to help me out. In other words I am her new candidate to be her guinea pig.

There was a little explanation as to what she was going to do and what we ourselves had to do to make it happen. Then she drew a little picture of my new hair and it was colored blonde. How can a blonde have freckles like mine?

"So what do you think?" she asked after I had found her for Sunday brunch. "Isn't it a great idea?"

"I'm not going blonde," I said flatly, sitting across from her.

"Oh come on, Gin," she insisted. "It'll be great. We'll dye your hair and get you some make-up and some new clothes. It'll be a whole new you! And you'll look so pretty!"

"Yes to everything else but the dye," I said firmly. My red hair is a part of me. I'm not about to give it up to be new and pretty. As long as I feel pretty that's all that matters.

"Fine," Sara sighed grumpily. "We'll leave it red. For now." I let out a little sigh of relief.

"Sounds good," I replied. "When do we start then?" 

"How about after brunch?" she offered. "I've finished all me homework. How about you?" I nodded then we proceeded to quickly eat our food. We were soon in a bathroom that no one ever really uses anyway. She's in Ravenclaw so we couldn't very well use out own dorm rooms.

"These are the make-up charms I dug up," she told me, handing me a sheet of paper covered in simple charms. "They're nothing too drastic. Just subtle stuff. You know, to emphasis the best qualities of your face." I nodded. If they're subtle, then what's the point?

"And here's the hair," she said, flashing a magazine page at me. The girl with the blonde bob winked at me. The cut was rather cute. "Now don't worry. I do hair charms all the time. They're one of my specialties," Sara reassured me.

"I have complete and utter trust in your abilities," I smiled at her.

Sara wasn't exactly your typical Ravenclaw. She was blonde and, well, nice. In other words she was really smart but didn't exactly look or act it. There really wasn't any other house to put her in. Not brave enough for Gryffindor, too kind for Slytherin and too smart for Hufflepuff. In other words she was an oddball who was known across the school for her friendliness. And she was funny to boot.

"Ok," she said, pulling out her wand. She gave me a wicked grin. "Bye, bye hair!" 

With a flick, a swish and a wiggle of her wand, I felt my hair get substantially lighter. Sara walked around me, pulling a little here and there. The she smiled broadly. "Prefect."

I looked at the floor and gasped. My red hair was everywhere. A good foot had come off and now lay at me feet. I felt a pang of distress in my heart. I had been growing it for the past five years. 

"Merlin," I muttered, stooping in an attempt to pick it up.

"Don't look at the past, Ginny," Sara said sternly, using a charm to clean the hair away before I could get my hands on it. "Look towards the future." With that she grabbed my shoulders and directed me to a mirror. 

I looked at me reflection and gasped once again. It was me, but the Ginny staring back looked older and more alive that the one I remembered. I gently touched it then began to smile widely.

"Do you like it?" Sara asked.

"Like it?" I demanded. "I love it! Thank you so much!" I gave the girl a hug, making her laugh.

"No problem, Gin," she said happily then glanced down at her watch. "Oh dear. I completely forgot. I'm supposed to meet Hannah in the library."

"Abbott?" I asked, placing the name with the girl in my potions class.

"Ya," Sara agreed. "Turns out the dear has a bit of a problem with Transfiguration. Oh well. I'll see you later Ginny."

She left. Leaving me with my new hair cut and a list of make-up charms. I tried them all out only deciding to keep about half. At least for now anyway.

When I returned to the Common Room Harry, Hermione and Ron were sitting by the fire, seeming to be in a heated discussion. I didn't want to hear about it so I crept up to my dorm and grabbed my cloak and scarf.

They didn't notice me travelling either way and I silently thanked who ever was in charge. I know Ron would have made a big deal over my hair or sudden lack-there-of. Harry, well I don't know about Harry. He always told me that he thought girls should have long hair. Hermione would be all fake happy and excited. Or perhaps it would be genuine, but I don't really care either way. I don't want to put up with it anymore.

It's colder outside now. But we're entering December now so I can't expect it to be like summer anymore. It's all rather depressing. The once colored leaves falling off the trees and lying dead on the ground. That's really how a part of me feels. Dead. Or at least the part of me who trusted Hermione and Harry. I'm sick of being stuck in the middle of the two of them. It's not fair. It's no-

"Weasley," someone called and I looked about. There wasn't anyone around, but I knew I had heard Malfoy's voice. So I looked up. Sure enough, that was Malfoy sitting on a tree branch about fifteen feet up.

"Wasn't this the other way around last weekend?" I called up, fighting off a grin. "But I hope you know I wont be able to catch you."

He looked down at me but he wasn't smile. "Stop screaming," he said. "Either come up here or go away."

That's new. Well not exactly, but he hasn't snapped at me like that in weeks. Something must be up. That or he didn't get enough sleep. So with a worried feeling in the pit of my stomach I began to climb the tree. It was no easy task I tell you. Being in a short skirt, nylons and a robe is not exactly the best thing to be wearing when climbing a tree. They all tend to catch on different things at the same time. Which proves a point: you can not have an adventure in a skirt.

I did get up to that branch though. A little out of breath from having to pry my clothes free from the branches but none worse for wear. Malfoy was looking at me oddly.

"What?" I asked, settling myself next to him, straightening my skirt.

"Nothing," he said, a small smirk playing on his lips. "I never thought you knew that many foul words though."

"Oh," I said, feeling myself blush. "Sorry about that." He smirked at me and I offered him a weak smile. "So, why are you up here?"

"Just thinking," he replied, looking out at the lake. It was quite a nice view up here.

"About anything impiticular?" I asked, looking at him. He looked pale. But the he's always pale. Perhaps it was just the dim, overcast light, but he seemed paler than usual. Maybe he was sick.

"Not really," he replied, not looking at me. I couldn't really think of anything to say to that and let him continue thinking in peace.

He was dressed in his cloak and scarf as well. The green and silver contrasting nicely with his hair. His hair looked so soft. But I didn't dare reach out and touch it. I didn't just think that.

It was then that I noticed it. A piece of parchment sticking out of his cloak pocket. It seemed well read. I say this because it was rather crumpled looking. Maybe he just got angry at it. Either way it caught my attention.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing at the parchment. How rude. How could I just ask?

"Huh?" he asked distractedly, glancing down to what I was pointing at. "Nothing really," he replied when he saw what I was pointing at. 

"Do you mind?" I asked as I reached for it. He didn't respond so I pulled it out. It had been crumpled. Several times.

I unfolded it and smoothed it out on my lap. It was written in ink so green it was almost black in a fancy, well practiced script.

__

Draco,

I know you are going through a difficult stage of your life right now. I went through it myself. But everyday you become stronger, moving closer to your prime. Do not ignore it. Do not shun the opportunity to become more than you are. Study deeper in the ways I have taught when you were young. Embrace the power of the Dark Arts.

You have potential, Draco. There is a strength in you that few poses. The Dark Lord has seen it as well. He is anticipating your union with our clan. I know you will succeed if you put your mind to it. I know you will make me proud. For your sake I hope that you get your head out of the clouds, my son, and face your reality. When you come home for Christmas we will discuss this further.

You're mother and I look forward to seeing you over the holidays.

Lucius

I felt my mouth fall open and I stared at the words blankly. Then I read it again. Maybe I had read them wrong. Nope. Still the same terrible words. The same horrible implications. I felt me hands beginning to shake.

"Draco," I whispered, turning to look at him wide-eyed. "Is he . . ."

"Serious?" he offered. I nodded. "Deadly."

"But you can't-" I stammered. "You can't- I mean-" I cut off, looking away. I sounded like an idiot and probably looked like one too. 

It all made sense now. His quietness. His abrasiveness. His cold attitude. He was acting out. Somehow I think I always knew it. I had also known his father was a terrible person. I never thought that he would expect his son to carry on his legacy. Well perhaps I had, but I don't think I meant it seriously.

"Weasley. Say something," he drawled quietly. I shook my head slightly and looked at him quizzically. "You've been silent for the last five minutes. You're making me nervous."

"Sorry," I whispered, fighting off the sudden urge to give him a hug. I don't think a hug will improve his situation much. "You're not going to, you know . . ." I finally managed after a moment.

"Become a Death Eater?" he sneered coldly. "Get the Dark Mark? Get branded like some bloody cattle?" His voice was so cold, so full of resentment that I felt myself shiver. "I told you Weasley," he drawled, and I sensed him turning to look at me. "I told you I don't want to be anything like that bastard. Not in a million years. And that includes becoming a Death Eater."

I stared down at my hands which were twisting violently in my lap. What could I say to that. Oh, that's nice. So no tea with the Dark Lord then? Please! This is the real world. Not some cheesy teen novel.

"Weasley, look at me," he said softly, the coldness and resentment gone from his voice. Well not gone exactly, more like pulled back to some dark place where he kept it locked down.

Slowly I turned to look at him, raising my eyes slowly. It's stupid really. I'm scared of what I'll see. What if he's lying? What then? What if I've come to trust a Death Eater? But then, what if he's not? What then?

I finally met his eyes and nearly gasped for a third time today. He was looking at me intently, as though trying to convey his honesty by simply looking. It was the freest of restraint I had ever seen his face. But now I understood why that restraint was there. He couldn't very well go around telling people he didn't believe in his father. They wouldn't believe him at all or worse, they'd kill him.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, finding my voice after a long pause. "I'm sorry your father's such an asshole. I'm sorry if I never tried to understand." I paused then added: "It's not fair."

"Nothing in life is fair, Weasley," he drawled, smirking a bit, causing something in my chest to jerk. "It wouldn't be any fun if it was."

~*~

I can't believe I let her find out! How could I have been so stupid? So idiotic?! If my father ever finds out it won't be good. He'll freak. He'll kill me. No, severely punish me within an inch of my life. He'll kill her. Great going Draco. Perfect. She didn't have enough problems of her own so you thought you'd just give her some of yours.

But lately everything's been getting to me. My father's letters are getting more and more insistent. So has the idiocy of my friends. I can't take it. And I really don't have anyone to turn to.

I feel caged. Bared in. I keep finding myself pacing about. I wonder if this is how a lion feels in a Muggle zoo. Knowing that he can be so much more than the bars will allow. Pacing and returning to his point of origin two seconds later. What would a lifetime of it be like? Withering away until there is nothing left but an over sized cat no longer willing to fight. I think I would go insane. But then, unlike the lion, I think I might have a chance to escape those bars.

Perhaps that's why I let Weasley find out. A secret is easier to carry if there's a second person to lighten the load. And the cage did seen a bit bigger than before. Albeit by a little bit, but now someone knows. Someone knows I am not a terrible person.

I think I scared her really. I doubt she ever thought my father had such plans for me. In that way she seems quite innocent despite her own run in with the Dark Lord. I've never met him myself, but I've spied on a few of my father's gatherings and seen what my life could be like. I've seen enough to know that I don't want to live a life like that.

Yet still I feel quite guilty in a way for getting her involved. Which is new for me. I don't often feel guilty for any reason. But I just keep seeing her reaction playing over and over in my head. I can't go back and change it. And even if I could I don't think the selfish part of me would allow it. It really is quite a relief to have told someone.

Yet at what price? At the cost of her safety? If my father ever finds out . . . Well, I just wont let it happen. And if by the off chance that it does, well, I'll just have to cross that bridge when I come to it.

Our Monday's potion class was strained and awkward. Neither of us made any attempt to insult the other. My guilty conscience (I still can't get over that) preventing any words and I am assuming something similar was preventing hers.

I think Snape noticed. He kept looking at us oddly as he explained our new unit: antidotes. This doesn't really bother me. I know for a fact that he is only pretending to play both sides for Voldemort. This comes from more observation and spying. He's just bitter. But the full extent of his bitterness is lost on me. And it is not exactly healthy to ask him. I might be in his good books but even I could never get away with that.

I had a dream once where I was Snape. It was very peculiar. He was laughing at Potter who has this ridiculous, laughing turban on his head. And then it was me laughing at him. No one disrupted me that morning so I managed to remember that much of it.

I've always been a strong believer that our dreams tell us things. Not that I have any faith in divination. Actually I think that's a load of crap. But dreams, dreams are our subconscious talking to us. A whole level of our minds that is free from the pressures, implications and conformity of our world. It just watches all day and they has it's free reign at night when we sleep. To torment us with nightmares if it's angry or to reward us with pleasant dreams if it is content.

More often than not though, the dreams are warnings about something it has seen the signs for. I didn't realize it right away, but I think that that particular dream was an omen that if I didn't get off the path I was on I would be doomed to live alike like Snape's. Join the Death Eaters as a way of seeking power or glory. Do terrible, horrible things that I don't even want to fathom. Then break way, find someone who believes in me like Dumbeldore and spend the rest of my pathetic life trying to redeem myself. Greasy hair and all.

By lunch time it had begun to snow. Not quite in large quantities but more a steady stream. Most people were excited by this. But to me it was just another sign of my impending family gathering over the holidays.

It was on Thursday though that something occurred that caused me to forget me own problems for a while. I'll give you three guesses as to whom it concerned. The first two don't count.

I was on my way to the library to do a bit of research for a herbology essay when I was about to round a corner. Angry voices around it made me stop. Not that I'm scared to walk in on a pair of bickering girls, but it was Weasley's voice I heard. And Granger. I stood there alone, listening, not daring to poke my head around the corner to see what was happening.

"Who do you mean," I heard Weasley hiss. "What is wrong with me lately?" 

"You cut your hair all off for one," Granger said heatedly. 

"I needed a change," Weasley growled back. "And since when is it a crime to cut one's hair?"

"You've been growing it for five years Ginny and I know yours takes forever to grow." To me Granger seemed to be trying to force logic on Weasley. I personally thought the short hair was a nice change. Not that I would utter it aloud. I do have my Malfoy pride to take care of.

"If I didn't know better," Granger said slowly. "I'd say you were trying to impress someone."

"What?!" I heard Weasley shriek. Quite loudly I might add. "What the _hell_ do you mean by that?!"

"You know exactly what I mean," Granger hissed coldly.

"No. No I don't," Weasley responded in much the same tone. I moved closer to the corner.

"You're jealous," Granger claimed as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You're jealous of Ron and I."

"I'm jealous of my brother and you?" Weasley sneered. "Oh, that's rich."

"I don't see why you don't just get your own boyfriend," Granger continued. "I know Harry's rather fond of you. You're all he ever talked about while we were going out."

"You bitch!" Weasley shrieked, louder than before. "How _dare_ you? How fucking dare you?! Harry's not good enough got you, Miss I'm So Fucking Perfect. So hey, why not give him to Ginny? She's a Weasley after all. She's poor. She's used to bloody hand-me-downs. Why not your fucking-"

"Weasley!" Snape's voice suddenly thundered through the hall. "Twenty points from Gryffindor!"

"What about her?!" she raged, totally taking me off guard. Weasley? Talking back to a Professor? She must have taken Snape by surprise as well for it was a moment before I heard his voice again.

"Twenty more points for talking back," he growled, anger resonating in his voice. "And detention."

"But she-" Weasley began again.

"I don't care," Snape hissed. "Now get out of my sight. Both of you. Before I decide to take any more points."

The sound of running feet greeted my ears and before I knew what was happening I was flat on my ass. Weasley had just bowled me over.

"Malfoy?" she asked in disbelief, pulling herself up off the ground. Her eyes were brimming with angry tears and I felt that feeling in my chest again.

"Weasley-" I started.

"Get out of my way," she said angrily, her voice cracking and she pushed past me and disappeared down the hall.

~*~

I couldn't believe it. How could that bloody asshole give me a detention?! Hermione was just as much at fault as I was. But then of course the bloody bitch went decidedly silent when Snape arrived. Bloody bitch. I'll show her.

And to add to my humiliation, I think Malfoy was listening to the whole thing around the corner. And I sure as hell am not going to let him see me cry. Not in a million years.

After potions on Friday, Snape pulled be aside and told me I would be serving my detention doing chores for Filch. So now, her I am, shoveling all the snow around the castle with a bloody Muggle shovel. All of it! And it just snowed like there was no tomorrow all last night up until lunch. How convenient, eh?

Oh life sucks. I've been at it for an hour and already I ache all over. My fingers are frozen and my headband isn't helping my ear much. I don't even remember when I stopped feeling my toes. 

Shovel, lift, toss. Shovel, lift, toss. Shovel, lift, toss.

Oh. What fun. Bloody slave labor this is.

It's already dark out too. Bloody daylight's savings time. The forest looks darker in the winter. More foreboding. I haven't really heard anything else about the fifth years. I'm not even exactly clear on who they were. Only that they got dragged in there by someone. Or something.

What a creepy thought. Being dragged into the forest by something. Even while traveling in a group.

Wait a minute. What was that? Nothing Ginny. You're seeing things. Stop thinking about it. You're just going to creep yourself out. And there's still the whole East Side to do. But the East Side runs closest to the forest . . .

Don't think about it! Stop it! 

Shovel, lift, toss. Shovel, lift, toss. Shovel-

Something landed on my shoulder. I did the only thing I could do: I screamed.

~*~

A/N: Ha! Cliffhanger! Take that! Just jokes. Anyhoo, I know, always drag the story back to Ginny. But it's hard to keep in a Malfoyish state of mind. But soon I tell ya, soon there will be a higher Draco concentration. Really! Oh stop looking at me like that!

Thanks to: **Lucia Dreams**(It hurts, but sometimes it's worth it)**, VirtualFaerie**(I like cookies. ~grin~)**, Crystal, Mytsie-Sama**(One can never see LotR too many times. Mmm…Legoals)**, Lallie**(And you would know about the walking into them right? Just jokes. I was wondering how long it would take you. But I'm straying from that plot line. Nothing has happened really to inspire me. Hopefully there will be nothing else.)**, Weasley Pride**(Good choice)**, Selvagem**(Perhaps it takes a bit of time before the revelation comes? Like a delay??)**, oliverwoodsgirl**(Not enough Draco, I know. But thanks)** and GinnyGINvampire00 aka Evon**(The Addy's a _very_ long story, so don't ask. And you will just have to wait like everyone else. ~grin~)**.**

Please review, it really helps me to know if I'm going in the right direction or not. Bah.

Oh, and please read **Lallie** and I's collab story. It's under the name: **Bitter is Better**


	6. The Proverbial Soap

Title: The Truth About Trees

Author: Tiny Q

E-Mail: one_legged_lesbian_seagull@hotmail.com

A/N: Oh dear. I have had this written up in my book since Christmas Eve Day. Sorry about that. But look! It's here! Hurray. Oh, don't be mad . . . Please? How about you just read the story and pretend like it's all good between us . . . And remember: I own nothing!

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The Truth About Trees

Chapter 6

The Proverbial Soap

My scream startled me. I never scream. Even when I'm terrified I usually just yelp or jerk violently. And there have been plenty of times for me to realize this. I did grow up with seven brothers after all.

But for the life of me I screamed. Loudly. But not for very long however. My attacker, though caught off guard for a moment, very quickly clamped a hand over my mouth and pulled me back against him. Don't ask me how I knew it was a him, I just did. The shovel clattered to the ground.

My heart racing now and terrifying images of being dragged into the forest I panicked. I jerked my right elbow back as hard as I could and felt it connect with his stomach. He let out an "oof" of air and released me. I leapt away and ran a few yards before daring to look back. When I finally did what I saw made my heart stop.

It wasn't some monster or dark creature doubled up, clutching his stomach. Perhaps in some people's eyes but no longer in mine. How perfect, eh? It was Draco Malfoy.

"Oh no!" I gasped and rushed over to him, feeling my face burning red. "Are you alright?" I reached out for him, but he jerked away.

"What does it look like?" he demanded. "What the fuck did you think you were doing Weasley?!"

"Well I-" I stammered. Wait a minute. He's the one who sneaked up on me and scared the living day lights out of me. "What do you mean what did _I _think I was doing? I was bloody well defending myself, that's what," I snapped, still feeling slightly bad for hurting him. "What did you think you were doing, scaring me like that?!"

To this he didn't respond, only glared up at me through his fringe of platinum blonde hair. After a moment, still clutching his stomach, he pulled himself up into a proper standing position. It was then that I noticed what he was wearing. A sleek, black cloak lined with some type of silver fur. It rose up at the collar, eliminating the need for a scarf. It put my worn hand-me-down to shame.

He must have noticed me looking at it, for he began to smirk. Despite the fact that he was still clutching his stomach, he made it look as though it were the thing to be doing. How does he do that?

"Cold Weasley?" he drawled, his sneer broadening.

"No," I hissed, resisting the urge to pull my own cloak closer around myself. Anyone would be cold in this weather, standing about foe an hour. Well I wasn't really standing around, but you get the idea. "I was just wondering how many animals had to die for it."

"Eight silver foxes," he said simply, his eyes twinkling slightly. Silver foxes? But I thought they were considered Muggle animals. I guess not.

"You're disgusting," I hissed, retrieving my shovel and readjusting my headband which was now sending my short hair up in all directions. "Now if you'll excuse me," I sneered, shoveling a chunk of snow. "I still have the East Side to shovel."

"Oh, don't let me stop you," he said nonchalantly, stepping aside with a sweeping gesture. I glared at him but continued to shovel.

It was odd. Ok, it was really odd. He simply stood there with me, not saying a word. No insults. No attempts at conversation. No nothing. Yet despite myself I welcomed the company. I didn't feel the fear of the unknown forest creature at all and somehow the shoveling seemed to go by quicker. Before I knew it, I was nearly done the East Side.

It was then that I noticed Malfoy had stopped moving. He was standing stalk still, peering at the forest. I stopped my shoveling and walked over to him, trying to follow his gaze. There was nothing there but trees and snow. And you can't tell me that's what he's scared of cause then he should never be outside again.

"What is it?" I finally whispered, the hairs on the back of my neck beginning to rise.

He turned to me after a second, his expression unreadable. "Nothing," he said with an odd tone to his voice. It wasn't sinister in any way. More like concerned in some odd, Malfoyish way. Now I know there's something wrong. "Finish shoveling."

I stared at him for a moment before I turned back to my job. The warm, safe feeling I had felt was gone now. The snow seemed heavier. The wind colder.

Shovel, lift, toss. Shovel, lift, toss. 

Ten feet left.

I glanced back at Malfoy. He had his wand out. I shoveled faster.

Shovel, lift, toss. Shovel, lift, toss.

There was desperation in my movements now.

Was that why he came out here? To . . . protect me? But why? Why protect me? It's not like I'm anything to him.

Shovel, lift, toss. Shovel, lift, toss.

One foot left.

Shovel, lift, toss. Shovel, lift, toss.

"Done," I breathed, tossing the last of the snow. I looked around. I couldn't see anything but Malfoy was still on guard.

"Then let's go," he hissed, not looking at me. Frowning, I hurried over to the shed where I had first received the shovel and replaced it. Then with Malfoy beside me we quickly walked back to the castle and went through the doors to the Entrance Hall. After a moment I could feel my toes begin to defrost. Painfully.

"Why did you do that?" I asked, surprising myself. How rude.

"Do what, Weasley?" he sneered, turning to look at me while removing his leather gloves. 

"Come out there with me?" I elaborated. "I mean, I'm your enemy's little sister. I'm a Weasley. I-" I cut myself off, surprised that I had even uttered the first part of it. How could I be so stupid?

He looked at me for a moment, a funny look on his face that I can't describe. "I don't care what you are," he said finally. I felt me eyes grow wide. He opened his mouth to say more then seemed to realize what he had said for his eyes went slightly wide as well. "I have to go," he said hurriedly and strode off.

He doesn't-

"Malfoy, wait!" I called before I could stop myself. He stopped walking but did not turn around. What was I doing? "Thanks." I called before sanity regained control.

He paused for a moment longer then continued his quick pace to the Slytherin Dorms. I stood there, defrosting, staring at where he had gone.

He doesn't care what I am. He doesn't care. And what was he going to say after it? Dare I ponder it? He obviously hadn't meant to let it slip. But he did. And he doesn't care what I am.

~*~

I don't know what came over me to make me go out there. It was cold and yet I still pulled on my new cloak and gloves and trodded my way out there. I had overheard Snape give Weasley her detention and I hadn't even thought to go out there. Yet while I was sitting in my Common Room attempting to read my book (_Advanced Potions for Defense Purposes_. Fascinating read.) I kept thinking of her. And the more I thought of her, the more this bad feeling in my stomach grew. It grew until it felt like I couldn't breathe.

Before I knew what exactly I was doing, I got ready and went outside. I didn't see her at first so I had to follow the trail of shoveled snow. The longer it took and the farther I walked the more nervous I got. What would I find at the end of the path? A fallen shovel and a trail of blood to the forest? Her lying there dead? Or simply a trail half shoveled but no sign of her.

Either way I began to feel panicky. Me. A Malfoy. Panicky over a Weasley. It's absurd. Unheard of. And yet it happened. The longer it took the worse it got. Until I rounded a corner and there she was, perfectly safe, shoveling snow. I felt my hear twinge.

I don't know why I tried to scare her either. I think it was some sort of rebellious way for me to seek revenge on the panicky feeling. To scare Weasley and make the feeling go away and have a ligament reason to be out there. Boy did that backfire. I pity her actual attacker. If she ever has one.

And then I had looked around. Despite the fact that I was out there with her, the nervous feeling was still there. And then I saw them. Or at least, I thought I saw them. Golden eyes, shinning through the forest brush. Probably just an owl, but never the less I was spooked. Bad feelings and golden eyes. They were only there for a second though. Gone the next. They did not return.

I still don't understand why I opened my mouth. How could I be so _stupid_? How could I say that what she is doesn't matter to me?! It does! She's a Weasley! I'm a Malfoy! What's next? Am I going to proclaim my undying love to her?! Or better yet: ask her to marry me so we can live happily ever after and have a dozen little children so our parents can have lots of grandchildren and generally improve our happiness?!?! 

My god, shoot me now. Stitch my mouth shut before I utter _that_.

Getting back to my dorm I decided to take a shower. There is no way I am going to fall asleep with all this on my mind. Even if it means I will have to take another one tomorrow. Environmentalists beware. Draco Malfoy is out to pollute our world's waters.

Water has always had some sort of soothing effect on me. If only for a time. I don't know how, it just does. Rain, showers, even water falls with their gigantic power.

I turned the water on as hard and as hot as I could stand and just stood under it. Closing my eyes and feeling the water massage my back.

If only life were as simple as falling water. Your only purpose to sustain life on this planet by falling or simply lying there, completely directed by gravity. No worries as to why you can't keep your mouth shut around a certain girl or about families expectations or careers or the idiots in your house. Just plain, simple existence.

I opened my eyes and looked about the small, wet cubical I was in. There was a small piece of soap caught in the drain, just sitting there, waiting to be washed away. It was pitiful really. It was going to die anyway so why bother trying to keep living?

Everything in this world dies eventually. We are born to die. So why would this pitiful slice of soap try and hold on? It was useless now. Too small to be of any use to anyone, save a mouse.

But then, that's what our world is, isn't it? The personification of the survival of the fittest. That those with the will carry on. The question is: carry on to do what? Exist? Live? For what? So they can die? Save others so they can live as well? Postpone their deaths? Was that right? (Hmm, suppose that was more than one question, eh?)

How could all that spur up from a simple piece of soap? A sad, pathetic piece of soap? How could thoughts of death and mortality spring from a piece of soap? Is that how others came to realize what they were meant to do? To see something pathetic and take pity?

Perhaps that is all people need in this world. To receive a bit of pity from the strong and be leant a hand. To be helped out of their rut so they can realize their full potential.

I stooped down and picked up the soap, replacing it on the rack. That simple task made my heart twinge. For some reason Weasley popped into my head at that moment. The feeling had been the same one I had felt earlier that day around her.

Come to think of it, my going out there to- protect her. Yes, I believe that is what I did. Though completely unintentionally. It had more meaning than a lot of things I have done over the years. It was a feeling ten times better than rescuing a piece of soap. Perhaps . . . Perhaps I should look deeper into this . . .

Ahh! Hot! Water too hot! Hastily turning the water off I concluded my shower was at an end.

So with a slightly burnt back and a slightly less troubled mind I crawled into bed, my roommates already snoring away. Despite all this, sleep came quickly. It was a dreamless sleep, my first in a long time. Rather disturbing really. I have come to enjoy my dreams. Even the odd or disturbing ones. In a way they are a means of escape. My dream-self always seems to know what he is doing or where he is going. Even if the signs of the dreams are omens of the opposite.

Saturday. Nothing ever happens on Saturday in the Slytherin Common Room. It's taboo to do homework and they don't often have anything intelligent to say. So what do they do? Sit about like great lumps and gossip or plot. That's what even stupid Slytherins are good for. Plotting. The more malicious the better.

"Draco!" Crabbe called from across the room as I made my way down. There was a small crowd over by the portrait hole. Scratch the nothing happening bit. I moved over to my large 'friend' and looked at what he was pointing at. "Are you staying for the holidays?" he asked.

I felt my stomach drop. The sheet was up already? But I hadn't even thought up my plan yet. I haven't had time. What have I been doing lately? Oh yes, Weasley and father. What a grand combination.

"I'm not sure," I replied, my mind drawing a blank. "I doubt it though," I added, looking at the large seventh year in the eye. I'm not short and yet Crabbe and Goyle both seem to loom over me. It's disturbing that I never really noticed it before. 

"Oh," Crabbe responded but his face did not fall as I had expected. "That's good," he said. What? "Mom wants me home this year. I'm not sure about Goyle but I think he's going home too. Last year as children and all."

I was being ditched. I can't believe it! Ditched! Sure, I don't like either of them. But for _them_ to ditch _me_? What does that say? Life really sucks if I get ditched by _them_.

Well at least I won't have to come up with some complicated, yet highly entertaining plan to get rid of them. No. All I would have to do is talk to Snape and request a "mandatory" assignment for the holidays. Yes. Maybe life is looking up.

  
~*~

By the time I got back to the Common Room it was empty. Was it really that late? Midnight. Where did the time go? I made to go up to my dorm.

"Ginny," someone called by the dying fire. I recognized the voice at once.

"What are you doing up, Harry?" I asked, walking towards him. He was seated in a solitary chair, partially hidden by the shadows. Still dressed in his school robes. He must be waiting for someone. Me.

"Take a seat," he said instead of answering my question, summoning a chair with his wand. Frowning, I sat in the proffered chair next to his and waited for him to elaborate. "I know this is really none of my business," he started and I felt my spirits droop further. What was this all about? It was late. I want sleep. "By all accounts it should be Ron sitting here, not me. But your brother's been off in Never Never Land for a while, so I guess I'll just have to fill his shoes."

I opened my mouth to speak but he held up his hand. "You know it's true. I can see it in your eyes ervery time Hermione and him are together." I felt a stab of anger in my heart at this. I hadn't spoken to Hermione for a week. Not since that bitch- "And I heard about your falling out with her. So I guess that explains the detention, eh?" He gave me a half smile.

"Harry, what is this all about?" I asked. Tiredness was making itself ever present. All I longed to do was crawl into my nice, soft bed, under my nice, soft sheets.

"I saw you out there," he began. "With Malfoy."

"Yeah, so?" I replied slowly. Perhaps I was just overly tiered, but it simply wasn't clicking.

"Is there something going on?" he asked softly.

"What do you mean?" I asked. I don't want to deal with this right now.

"Is there something going on between you and Malfoy?" he asked more loudly. "Cause if there is- He's not a good person."

"What?" I asked in disbelief. "There is nothing going on between us!"

"Then why was he out there with you tonight?" Harry demanded. Good question. Why _was_ he out there really?

"I don't know," I admitted truthfully. "I think he was trying to scare me."

"You see?" he said with emphasis. "He's a no good, slimy-"

"Harry, back off," I interrupted firmly, surprising myself. His concern was both touching, tear-jerking and angering. In my tired state of mind I leaned towards the angry side. "I know you are always searching for dragons to fight. I would be too if I had your history. But I'm not a little girl anymore Harry. I'm not being controlled by Riddle. Everything I am doing is of my own freewill. And if I want to be around Malfoy then there is nothing you can do to stop me."

"But he's a Malfoy," Harry said desperately. "Don't you see? He's been our enemy since first year! His father gave you Riddle's diary in the first place!"

"Don't you _dare_ compare Draco to his father," I hissed, getting the sudden mental image of Draco in that tree, the letter in his pocket. "They are _nothing_ alike. He's changed. He's realized his past mistakes. He's no longer his father's clone."

Harry started at me, dumbstruck. I glared back, my chest heaving. I wasn't sure where all that anger came from, but it felt good now that it was out. But perhaps I had been a bit harsh. Harry was only trying to help after all. I opened my mouth to apologize.

"You really think he's changed then?" Harry interrupted me before I had a chance to speak.

"Yes, I do," I stated firmly. Well he has changed on this inside. I think his outward attitude is all an act for protection. Like a shell. A turtle's shell that he carries about with him everywhere.

"Then just promise me," Harry said softly after a moment's pause, getting to his feet and standing before me. He reached out and took my hand. I felt my eyes widen slightly and I looked into his enchanting green ones. "Just promise me that you'll be careful. He's still a Malfoy after all."

"I know," I responded darkly, thinking to his harsh exterior. "I know Harry. And I promise."

~*~

I stood outside my potions professor's office door for a while, feeling quite foolish. I wanted to knock but I couldn't fight off the terrible feeling in my stomach. It was not like I was doing anything wrong. I simply don't want to go home. But Crabbe's words kept echoing in my mind: _Last year as children_.

I shook my head. Why was this such a big deal all of a sudden? It wasn't as if I missed Christmas at home. There was nothing to do there anyway except perhaps spy on my father's dinner parties. And what fun that is.

"Mr. Malfoy." A voice said form behind me, causing my to jump. I whirled around to see Professor Snape staring at me, a stack of books in his hands. "Why exactly are you staring at my door?"

I felt myself flush with embarrassment. How long had he been standing there? I really must look like an idiot.

"Uh, I was trying to find you," I responded, shifting my weight. Since when do I get nervous around Snape? Yet here I am squirming and flushing like a first year. Disgraceful.

"By staring through my door?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. After a moment of staring at me he grinned slightly. Or at least, it could only be called a grin. Permanent upward twitch was right up there next to it.

"I was going to knock," I muttered as he made his way past me and opened the door in question. He went in and gestured for me to follow.

"Take a seat, Mr. Malfoy," he said, placing the pile of books neatly on a corner of his desk. I stared at them. Snape was odd that way. Everything around him was perfectly neat and yet his appearance was far from. I have always wondered what color his hair _really_ is.

I looked over at him and realized he was watching me. I resisted the urge to shift in my seat. His black eyes were so cold. So calculating, seeming to bore through my mind. I stared back.

"It's your father," he said finally, looking away.

"How did you know?" I asked, completely taken by surprise. Can Snape read minds? That would be an interesting development.

"I've heard him talking," Snape sighed, crossing his arms. It was as though the man were suddenly chilled. He looked me in the eyes. "Talking to the Dark Lord. He seems to think you will be of age soon. And you will be."

I felt my eyes widen. He had been talking? I always thought- no. It makes sense. Terrible, morbid sense. I just wasn't expecting it so soon.

Snape had begun to stare at me again. I couldn't bring myself to look at him. Does he think I want to follow in my father's footsteps? I've never shown him reason to think otherwise.

"I don't want to go home," I said in deft, startling myself. I hadn't even realized I was speaking. I didn't look up. Oh why can't I look up? It's Snape! My favorite professor. Why can't I look him in the eyes?

"An extra credit assignment?" he offered and I looked up at him. There was something about his expression that startled me. It looked almost relieved. Proud.

"Please," I nodded in grateful agreement. He knew what I want. I wouldn't have to explain it.

"Alright," he said, pulling out an old quill. "But you will have to face this eventually, Draco. It will not simply go away."

"I know," I admitted, feeling relief. "But I can't deal with it now. I need more time. More time to sort it all out."

"You had better sort it through quickly my boy," Snape said earnestly. "For come the end on the school year, Voldemort will be expecting new recruits."

~*~

A/N: Well there you have it. Another horrible chapter with very little plot development and a definite lack of D/G action. ~sob~ Please forgive me! The next chapter is a Christmas one. Well that's cause I wrote it just after Christmas. And there is a bit more action than all these other chapters. But don't get your hopes up. This story is really going down the drain me thinks. ~sigh~ But thanks for reading! And please review to tell me how crappy it was.

Many thanks to: **seekerpeeker, VirtualFaerie**(Thanks, I needed that. Bit of a bad month. All snowy and cold like. ~sigh~)**, Sayo, Space Lion, Crystal**(Legoals??)**, girl-weasley**(Not really? Well that makes me feel better… J/K)**, Reality**(Kill her eh? It's tempting I tell ya)**, tulzdavampslayer**(Well, I guess it was)**, Sharlene**(A shovel? I like the sounds of that…)**, Selvagem**(Yeah, the world has issues. So does life. ~shrug~ Never mind)**, GinnyGINvampire00 aka Evon**(Yeah, I don't think you really want to know. And didn't I mention it before? Ginny lost her left ear when she fell out of the tree! J/K)** and Lallie**(Yes hun, that's right. But no new words! I still can't get over Bah! Grr. Now I will have 'Gah' in my vocab as well it seems. ~sigh~ But I like your deal, so you better have that ass bit in your story soon. You can leave out the cock fight though. ~grin~) 


	7. The Amazing Things One Can Do With Snow

Title: The Truth About Trees

Author: Tiny Q

E-Mail: one_legged_lesbian_seagull@hotmail.com

A/N: So yes, this is the last chapter that I have written up thus far. I wrote this on New Years Eve so that's why it's all holiday like. I really rather like the beginning but the ending ain't too great. Bah. I have no more written up anymore though, so I don't know how long it will take me to get the next chapter out. Sorry. But until then, please enjoy:

****

The Truth About Trees

Chapter 7

The Amazing Things One Can Do With Snow

The Christmas holidays came quickly. Well "quickly" if you look past the two weeks that droned on and on endlessly causing one to doubt time was moving at all. Or all the homework the professors wanted marked before classes ended. Or that mysterious, unexplained feeling that you truly didn't want to be there and would rather be anywhere, save Voldemort's lair. Ok. Perhaps his lair would have been better. What can I say? School annoys me near a holiday. Everyone is mean and irritable and, well, annoying.

I had thought the last Friday would be better. But was I mistaken. Double potions started out fine except for the end when Snape held Malfoy and I back for and extra "mandatory" assignment. Not that I was going home. The folks are going to Egypt to visit Bill this year. With out us. But it's the principle of it! An extra assignment! Over the holidays! And I received no other homework for the entire time! Oh well. Could have been worse, I suppose. I think the slimy git's still mad at me for talking back to him. 

A large portion of the student body went home this year. Almost all the Slytherins were gone, save two: Malfoy and some first year. Very few Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs either. The only Gryffindors were myself, the turbulent Dream Team, Colin and two third years, who I honestly think are quite deranged. But I won't get into _that_.

I feel rather bad for Harry. Ron and Hermione are never around anymore. And only thing he does is sit about, do homework or read about Quidditch. Or of course, he talks to me.

It's not like I have much better activities to do. Colin's girlfriend, who I really don't like. Well she doesn't like me, other than that she's ok. How do I know she doesn't like me? Whenever I see her she glares at me. Especially when Colin waves to me in the hallways. But before I went off on that little tangent I was talking about Colin.

His girlfriend went home for the holidays and I honestly think he is pouting. I never see him anymore. He just stays up in his dorm and if he leaves (I think he leaves, I rarely see him though) I'm not sure where he goes off to. Poor dear.

Well, I am in the library right not. Tucked back in a back corner by a nice, large window. Studying. Reading? Doddleing? Ok. Fine. I'm bored out of my mind. Happy? Not like I have anything better to do and I can't seem to sit still long enough to draw or write or anything else.

"Ginny?" someone's voice sliced through me boredom. "Why are you all the way back here?"

"Colin?" I asked, turning about to see my friend. Despite the fact that I hadn't seen him for a while he looked none worse for wear. He still had his sandy-blonde hobbit hair, all curly and unruly. "What's up?"

"Nothing really," he said dejectedly, plopping into the seat opposite me. "Anything up with you?" he asked, looking out the window.

"Not really," I replied with a sigh. "Though I have discovered your hand looks bigger than it normally does from the other side." He turned to look at me. I held up my arm, twisting it about so I could look at it pinky-side in. Yup. Still bigger than normal.

Colin did the same to his own hand. "Wow," he said a little surprised, looking at his hand in disbelief. "That's crazy."

And that's how Harry found us, staring at the opposite side of our hands.

"You're both insane," he said after we had explained.

And so the three of us sat in silence, staring out the window. None of us spoke for there was really nothing to say. There was nothing to really look at either. Just snow, snow and oh yes, can't forget: more snow. Ok. So I have a grudge against snow. You would too if you had to shovel all the sidewalks of Hogwarts in one go.

"Colin," Harry said suddenly, interrupting the ever long silence. We both turned to look at the bespectacled boy. "Do you wanna go play some Quidditch?"

"Sure," he replied after a moment's thought.

"What about me?" I demanded and Harry sighed.

"You don't want to play," he replied.

"How do you know?" I said indignantly, crossing my arms.

"You never do," Harry sighed. Colin nodded. I glared at both of them.

"How do you know today isn't different?" I hissed, narrowing my eyes.

"Fine," he said, putting his hands in his hair. "Ginny, do you want to go play Quidditch with Colin and I?"

"No thank you," I replied sweetly then grinned evilly at the two boys.

"Bye Ginny," Colin laughed and they made their exit. I sat there for a while, gazing out the window.

It's Christmas today. Did I forget to mention that? Well it is. I got lots of great presents too. Some good books, some quills, new clothes, an odd hat from Charlie and food. Lots of food. One can never have too much chocolate. I _love_ chocolate.

Staring out the window I got the idea to go outside. It seemed like a nice day. Not too bright or anything. So I trooped up to my dorm (The entire tower was void of people) and got my cloak and gloves and put of my new hat. All prepared for the cold, I headed outside.

Once out there I made for the lake. But the snow wasn't as crunchy as I thought it should be. Stooping down I picked some up. It was moist. Pack-able. Roll-able. The perfect snow for a snowball fight. But there was no one around so I guess I will just have to settle for the next best thing . . .

~*~

The arrival of the holidays should have been a relief. Only one first year out of all the students in Slytherin House remained. That alone should have had me doing back flips about the Common Room. To add to that there were barely any Gryffindors left. Who can argue against that?

It should have been good. Fantastic. If it hadn't been for my father's letter. When I owled him Friday night, telling him about my potions assignment he owled me back by the next morning conveying his and mother's disappointment that I would not be them for the holidays. There was nothing mean or sadistic about it. Which was what unnerved me. He almost seemed happy about it. What could _that_ possibly mean?

Does he really not want me to become a Death Eater? That it's all an act? Perhaps it's on the other side of the spectrum and my parents are simply happy that they won't have to put up with me. That they could care less about me either way.

Ok. Stop thinking like that. It's Christmas today. And it's not like they didn't send me any Christmas presents. It's just that- Time for a walk. I'll go batty if I continue on this particular train of thought.

So I looked about my empty dorm for my new cloak. I have gotten so used to the sound of Crabbe and Goyle snoring that the silence at night is a little creepy. All I hear is my heartbeat or the creaking of the old castle. But I found I do sleep better in the long run. Once I'm asleep that is.

My cloak was just where I left it: on my chair. So I threw it on as well as my scarf for some reason. Probably out of habit. I also put my gloves on and headed for the door. The cold air just might snap some sense into me. It's Christmas for Merlin's sake and here I am, mopping about my dorm. 

It's a nice day out. Not too cold at all with little wind. And the sky is overcast so you don't get the blaring snow glare from the sun reflecting into your face. It was just right.

I started heading out to the Quidditch pitch. There were people out flying and I'm curious as to who it is. Probably being my luck it would be Potter and then I would have to explain my presence which would have something to do along the lines of spying and then they would get all mad and it just wouldn't be good.

Thankfully my attention was drawn away from the Quidditch pitch and towards the ground. Right in the middle of the snow covered grass was a trail as though someone had taken a shovel and wormed their way across the ground. My curiosity piqued, I stepped onto the exposed grass and began to follow the trail.

It went for some while winding this way and that but there was no one in sight to suggest who did it. And the trail was getting larger. It had been about a half foot in size when I started. Now it was about two. It led up to a ridge and as I made the peak it all made sense.

A girl with fire-red hair, covered in snow, was standing beside a snowball about four and a half feet tall. She had another one about half the size and was struggling to lift it. You guessed it. Weasley. And what the hell is on her head? It looks like some sort of bagpipe made out of some fuzzy material.

"Well don't just stand there," she called to me, not even turning around. Now that's a little disturbing. "Help me."

For reasons unknown to me, that I am really starting to hate, I went down to her. I stopped on the other side of the smaller snowball and she looked up.

"Oh, it's you," she said a little flatly, standing straight.

"Well who were you expecting it to be?" I sneered, crossing my arms.

"Someone else?" she offered sweetly. Was that a smirk on her face? By gods it is. When did she start doing that?! It's rather creepy on her. Not right. Not right at all.

"Well," she said slowly. "Are you going to help me or are you just going to stand there, looking at me funny?" Damn.

"What are you trying to do?" I asked halfheartedly.

"Put the midsection up," she replied, showing with her hands what she meant.

"Alright," I replied slowly, stooping down so I could get a good grip on the rather large snowball.

"On three," she said after she had taken up the same position. "Three." And so we both lifted the ball and maneuvered it to be on top of the larger one. It was heavier than I thought it would be but I didn't show it. Weasley was biting her tongue.

"Hold it there," she said after we set it gently on top. I complied and she began to scoop up snow and pack it into the crack and seam.

"How on Earth did you make this big one?" I asked, kicking it lightly. I had been wondering but I hadn't intended on actually asking.

She looked up at me, her already flushed cheeks turning redder. "Well, it was almost right size," she started slowly. "Then my foot slipped and I fell down the slope." She pointed to the ridge I had just came over and I saw the imprints in the snow that looked as thought she had slid down on her ass. Which would explain her being covered in snow. "Then the snowball came down after me and it got like this." She kicked it herself. "And it was too heavy to move so I just started making the other one."

I nodded. I suppose in some twisted way it made sense.

"Now I just need to make the head," she said happily, walking over to a selection of untouched snow and made a large ball. She squatted down and began to roll it, scurrying after it in her squatting position.

I couldn't help it. I laughed. She looked so damn funny like that. Cute almost. Ugh. Did I just say cute? About a Weasley? 

"What?" she demanded, turning to look at me.

"Nothing," I smirked, getting my laughter under control. She huffed and continued to roll the ball, making it larger. Within a minute she was standing beside me, the ball at my feet.

"Could you put it up there?" she asked politely. The snow thing was already as tall as I was. I smirked at her.

"Why Weasley," I said with mock sympathy, struggling to hold back a grin. "Can't reach?"

"Shut up," she hissed, punching me in the arm. "Six inches. Big deal. Now put the head on."

"Fine, your highness," I sneered, the grin breaking thought. I stooped down, picked up the "head" and securely placed it on the second largest snowball. Weasley went about quickly with the securing bit.

"Now he needs arms," she said with a slight frown, trodding off to the underbrush by the forest. I looked towards it, but no golden eyes stared back this time. I must have imagined it.

"That's all you could find?" I sneered as she returned a bit later with two branches. One was much shorter and the other. 

"That's all there is," she said mournfully. "He'll just have to be stumpy." She stabbed the two branches into the mid section at odd angles. "Now he need a face."

I looked about and spotted a pine cone. Picking it up, I placed it where I thought the nose should be. "How 'bout that?"

"Perfect," she grinned, pulling a small ribbon from her pocket and making a mouth. "Now all he needs are eyes." She scurried over to the lake and retrieved two stones and stuck them into the head. "Can I see your scarf?" she asked me with a slight grin.

"Why?" I asked suspiciously, narrowing my eyes.

"Please?" she asked, making her eyes go wide. What has gotten into her? She's all happy like. She's never like this. It's like she's lost all sense of responsibility or something. And you know what? I think it's contagious.

With a small grin, I took off my scarf and handed it over to her. She then proceeded to wrap it around the snowman's neck.

She stood back, then grabbing the sleeve of my cloak, pulled me back a few meters so we could look at the figure properly. She began to smirk widely.

"What?" I demanded, looking at her.

"It's you," she giggled. "In fifty years. All old and bald."

"What?" I growled. "I will _not_ be _bald_ in fifty years." 

She giggled harder. "Have a high testosterone level, do we?" she asked innocently.

"What?" I asked in utter confusion. Then I did the only logical thing to do: I shoved her.

With a yelp she stumbled and fell into a snow bank.

"Hey," she hissed, slowly getting to her feet. I stood there, laughing silently. I glanced over at her and took a double take as she came charging towards me. Throwing her whole body against me, I went crashing down into the snow. She landed beside me.

I remained perfectly still for a moment. No one has ever done that to me. I have _never_ been thrown into the snow. Not to mention body-checked. It's all rather funny really.

And so it didn't really surprise me when I started to laugh. Really laugh. The kind of laughter that reaches one's eyes. Beside me, Weasley began to laugh as well until the both of us were clutching our sides.

"I don't think I have ever laughed so hard," I gasped after a few minutes. It's true. I don't think I have.

Weasley stopped laughing and looked at me. The happiness slowly fading to something else. If I didn't know better I would say it was sadness. Perhaps even pity. 

"Come eat with us tonight," she said, completely taking me by surprise.

"What?" I asked after the initial shock of it had worn off.

"Come eat with us tonight," she repeated, not breaking eye contact. "It's Christmas. You can't sit by yourself."

"What about your brother?" I sputtered Why didn't I say no? It's not like I _want_ to eat with her. Do I? Merlin. I think I do. No. No! I do not. NO I DO NOT.

"Who cares," she hissed. "He's off in his own little world. Even if he does notice it won't matter."

"Potter then," I said a little too quickly. I know I was grasping at reasons. But how could I not? How could I willingly eat dinner with a Weasley?!

"I already told him off," she replied.

"Snape?"

"Malfoy," she growled. "You're joining us and that's final."

"Fine," I snarled, then felt my eyes go wide. Did I just- Oh no. "But I won't enjoy it," I sneered hastily.

She grinned at me triumphantly. "Of course you wont," she chided. "Though I know you will have fun," she muttered after a moment.

"Ya. Fun," I sneered back. "Like being hit in the head by a Bludger. Repeatedly."

"Oh shut up," she said dismissively. "Let's go inside. I'm cold."

"That's what you get for rolling around in the snow," I growled as I got up and retrieved my scarf. I had to shake it violently before I could put it back on. "Ready?" I asked, turning back to her. She nodded and we headed off.

What exactly have I gotten myself into?

~*~

I don't know what came over me. Why did I invite Malfoy to eat dinner with us? Christmas dinner. And why on earth did he accept?

The answer to the first question would probably be that I feel bad for him. Now that I know why he's not going home I feel bad. Even if he is my family's enemy he needs to eat. With company. I still have a hard time believing it's all real. That Draco Malfoy has a soul. Albeit a very well hidden one, but a soul none the less. 

As to why he would accept my invitation I have no idea. Perhaps he's just lonely, being the only seventh year Slytherin left in the castle. But to eat with Weasleys? No. He already said that what I am doesn't matter to him. But to prove it to others? Ok. I know there is like no one left in the school, but still.

Oh what am I going to do? I suppose the logical answer would be to make sure things go as smoothly as possible. In other words: prey Ron doesn't notice. 

As I chose what to wear I felt a bit nervous. And it didn't help much that most of my clothes are too big for me now. I don't know where all the weight has gone, but I can't very well complain. I finally settled on a red blouse and a knee-length black skirt. And now here I wait in our meeting place: the Entrance Hall.

"Hey Ginny!" I turned to see Colin approaching fast, looking quite cute in his blue sweater and black dress pants. "What are you doing?"

"Waiting for someone," I replied, looking about. I was early. "How was Quidditch?"

"It was ok," he replied with a sigh.

"Better than mopping about?" I said with a slight laugh.

"I have not been mopping about," he frowned.

"Of course you haven't," I said with mock understanding, patting his arm. He frowned further then something caught his attention.

"Don't look now," he whispered. "It's Malfoy."

I turned to look where he was. Sure enough there was Malfoy, sauntering over to us, his smirk already in place.

"Shall we?" he asked when he came to a stop in front of us.

"Why not," I responded and began to follow his lead. 

Colin caught at my arm and whispered desperately in my ear: "_He's_ not who you were waiting for, is he?!"

"Yes, he is," I hissed back.

"But- Ginny-" he stammered wide-eyed.

"Colin, not now," I cut him off. "It's Christmas." And with that I joined Malfoy who had stopped a few meters away. Colin followed reluctantly.

Upon entering the Great Hall it seemed someone had the foresight to solve one of my problems: Only one table was in the center of the room. Once again there were so few students. Professors Dumbledore, Snape, McGonagall and Flitwick were already seated with Hermione beside the Transfiguration Prof and Ron between her and Harry.

Colin went and sat beside Harry and I beside him. Malfoy followed close behind me and sat on my other side. Ron looked over and glared daggers at me but I smirked back sweetly. He wouldn't dare try anything with the professors here. Harry arched his eyebrows as well, but I ignored him.

Within a few minutes the other students arrived and the feast began. And it was all delicious. Merlin was it good. I tried a bit of everything and contentedly listened to the professors and students talk. Several conversations were going at once. One about school. Dull. To another one about House Elf rights. I'll give you three guesses as to who started that one.

I looked over at Malfoy who was working on eating a large pile of food on his plate. I smiled slightly and he did the same in return. Well he can't very well smile outright can he? His mouth is full of food!

I turned back to Colin and was about to say something. I felt Malfoy's breath against my neck. I started and looked at him.

"Why aren't you eating?" he whispered in my ear. 

Has he lost his mind? "I have been eating," I whispered back. "I had some of everything." He frowned at me, obviously not believing me, but leant back and went back to his own food.

What does he mean I am not eating? I had plenty to eat. I'm full.

Glaring at him, I looked down at my plate. It was rather empty. So to spite him I took a huge heap of mashed potatoes and plopped it right in the center of my plate. I made a hole in the center of them with my fork then poured gravy into it.

"Happy?" I hissed quietly.

He looked at my plate. "What the hell is that, Weasley?"

"A volcano," I replied simply. I used my fork and began eating the mashed potatoes from the inside wall out.

He shook his head but I could see a grin tugging at his lips as he turned his head away.

How can life get so strange? The year before nothing interesting happened to me. Nothing. No befriending an older guy. Let alone a Malfoy. None of my friends were dating. There were no bizarre love triangles. But come to think about it, beside the fact that nothing interesting had happened it had been a stressful year. Not quite sure why though.

I felt someone's breath on my neck again and I expected to hear Malfoy's voice in my ear. It wasn't. It was Ron.

"We'll talk about this later, Ginny," he hissed quietly and I turned to look at him. Hermione was a few feet behind him, frowning at me. I looked at Ron, he was glaring at Malfoy.

"Of course we will," I sneered back, then purposefully turned away and finished eating what was left of the potatoes from my plate.

Ron made an angry tutting noise and left with Hermione in tow. Harry was looking at me again and I studiously ignored him.

McGonagall and Snape left shortly after that. So did the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. Dumbledore and Flitwick seemed too drunk to care what was happening and were cheerfully chatting with each other. The two deranged Gryffindors were whispering conspiratorially to each other. All the while glancing at Malfoy and I. We both glared at them and they made haste to leave.

Colin tapped my arm and I turned to look at him expectantly. He looked oddly nervous. I haven't seen him like that in a long time.

"Harry and I are leaving now," he whispered, glancing at Malfoy. "Are you going to be ok?"

"Why wouldn't I?" I asked politely back. He began to stumble for an answer but I waved him off. "Never mind. I'll be fine."

With a last worried look from the both of them, they left. I turned and looked at Malfoy who was glaring after my two friends. I began to frown as well until I realized someone was staring at me. I turned to see the first year Slytherin watching me.

So I stared back. He didn't back down either. Just kept right on staring. I started to get pissed. What a rude child. I had half a mind to give him the finger but I think Dumbledore is more sober than he is letting on.

"Let's leave," Malfoy said, touching my hand. I felt chills run up my arm. His hands were cold.

"Ok," I said, giving the first year a good glare. I followed Malfoy out and he stopped me in the Entrance Hall. The Great Hall doors slammed shut.

"I wouldn't mess with that kid if I were you, Weasley," Malfoy said seriously.

"Why?" I asked with a frown. Ok. So he was a little odd but . . .

"He's not right in the head," he explained. "Not right at all."

I looked back at the door, half expecting the boy to come out and attack. Perhaps he had a thing for human livers? With a side entrée of fava beans and a nice Chianti? When I looked back at Malfoy he was staring up at the ceiling. I followed his gaze.

"Mistletoe," he said observantly. And before I could do much more than look at him questioningly he had swooped in.

My heart stopped as his lips connected with my cheek. He stepped back quickly and smiled slightly, a pink tinge rising on his own cheeks. I felt mine burn.

"Merry Christmas Weasley," he said, then strode off towards the dungeons.

I stared after him, speechless, my hand deftly rising up to touch my cheek. He kissed my cheek.

He kissed me.

Oh Merlin.

~*~

Why did I have to say anything? I could have ignored the bloody plant. Weed is more like it. Why did I have to open my stupid mouth? I swear, I am going to cut my tongue out. That will save me the grief of making a complete idiot of myself.

Why on earth did I have to kiss her cheek? Merlin, why didn't I just kiss her?

~*~

A/N: Mwa. So that's it. I think this story will take a bit different of a direction than I first planned. It might make it a tad longer though, but that's ok. So yes, how many of you actually tried to look at your hand from the other side?? It's amazing the things one learns while bored out of their minds at school. ~grin~ And ten point to anyone who can spot the _Silence of the Lambs_ quote. No Lallie, you are not allowed to participate. Mlah. 

Thanks ever so much to: **Crystal**(Always blame the drugs. ~grin~)**, Sharlene**(I think I'm going to have a gang on my hands soon. Herm better wtch out. Lol!)**, goodgirlsbadboys**(I felt like having a nicer Draco. I personally think he's just misled by his father and I really hope he realizes it in the books)**, VirtualFaerie**(Thanks. I needed that. And you had better not kill yourself for I would be _very_ angry. And you don't want me to come hunt you down in the afterlife I tell ya. ~grin~)**, GinnyGINvampire00 aka Evon**(It's sad when soap dies. But I could put another one ear mistake in for ya, if you want)**, Lily of the Shadow**(Glad you like it)**, Lallie**(See? I can be intelligent if I want to. Really. I can. Stop frowning at me. Oh I hate you. We need to edit you know. Us Lazy bums. ~sigh~)**, Selvagem**(Yes, yes I did)**, Weasley Pride, paranoid**(I don't plan to drop it. Well not yet anyway)**, charredrose**(He can only be a hero in so many fics. And besides, he has his own book series. ~grin~)**, aznqtpai, tulzdavampslayer**(Banned??)**, cladinpink**(No no. It's good to know that I have some realistic stuff in here)** and Lad33_Cee**(Well, we'll see about that…)


	8. Chocolates and Paranoia

Title: The Truth About Trees

Author: Tiny Q

E-Mail: one_legged_lesbian_seagull@hotmail.com

**Question**: Before I start ranting and raving about life, how can I upload chapters off of Word version 2002 as a web page without the lines spacing out so much?  It's really annoying.  If you could help me I would be ever so grateful!

A/N: Ok.  Seriously now people!  **Do not try and fall out of trees!!!!**  I can't believe how many of you are actually considering it!  I don't want to get sued when you break something, or worse!  It's not safe!  It isn't!  Ok.  Now that I got that out, I will just complain about the weather.  It's snowing!  Snowing in May!  What the hell!  It's just not right, even up here.  Poop on Albertan Weather.  ~grumbles~  I haven't really read the other chapters for about, uh, four months... So I _know_ that Ginny and Draco are a little... off?  Ehem.  I guess I'll just let you read then...

Disclaimer: I own nothing!  Well maybe the plot.  And Sarah.  And the trees in my backyard. Well no.  They're my parent's but...  

**The Truth About Trees**

**Chapter 8**

**Chocolates and Paranoia**

~*~

            The month or so that followed the holidays went by far too slow.  There really should have been two or three extra weeks tacked onto the other two and a half.  I could have settled for just one extra week actually, but that's cutting it.  But alas, everything wonderful must end.  And sure enough the loud and obnoxious residents of Hogwarts returned.  Goody.

            They seemed more hyperactive than usual, their voices reaching crescendos in my mind while I sit quietly and attempt to read.  Now I don't know if this was because I was so used to the almost dead silence of the school with no one in it, or if they had simply received far too much sugar over the holidays.  Either way I didn't like it.  

            I mean, even though I had to put up with Malfoy for most of the holiday itself to do that stupid project, it was still nice to be relatively alone in places that are usually packed full of the loud people.  Oh well, it's not like I can go on a rampage and kill them all, even though I sometimes want to.  That would be bad for school morale.

            But on the subject of Malfoy and I, there really is nothing.  After Christmas dinner and that, uh, mistletoe incident, everything went back to normal.  And I when I say normal I mean the normalness that we have had for about a month before that: We no longer are at each other's throats but are by no means nice to each other.  It really is a queer relationship. 

            But we did manage to finish that stupid assignment.  We were in those dank and dreary dungeons everyday for the last week of holidays, but we got it done.  It was awkward at first, the whole kissing thing between us.  And that was what was so stupid!  He just kissed my _cheek for Merlin's sake!  But anyway, things were a bit tense until he decided to insult my socks.  Then everything was back to 'normal'.  _

            But really, nothing has happened for the last month or so.  Interesting or otherwise.  No more attacks from the forest.  No more detentions for me.  No more freaky children staring at me.  Actually, it's as if everyone is going about their own business, however mundane it might be, in an attempt to _make nothing happen just to spite me.  But that would be silly and make me seem paranoid._

            But come to think of it though, there _is _something going on where Hermione's concerned.  Isn't there always though?  Anyhoo, I haven't spoken to her now in over two months.  Not since the detention bit.  Not that I have a problem with that!  But it's putting a strain on my relationship with Ron, we barley talk at all anymore.  And I used to get along with him the best out of all my brothers!  The thing is I find it so hard to start up a conversation for _she is always there._

            _She_ is also causing more problems for Harry than I thought her capable of.  The two of them haven't been on very good terms as of late and Harry has begun to rely heavily on Neville for support.  But then Hermione has taken it upon herself to be closer to Neville as well.  It's almost as if she was thinking that if Harry likes being around Neville, so would she and she didn't want to be missing out.  But personally I think it's some twisted and malicious way to seek revenge.  

            That started about a week after Neville and everyone got back from their vacations.  And trust me; I have heard Harry complain endlessly about it all.

            But I have been trying to forget the whole ordeal.  All of it.  And I was doing pretty good too.  I started to hang about other people more.  Mainly Sarah and some of her friends, but I have also found myself associating with the girls in my dorm as well.  They're all rather nice, though a little daft.

            Now this was all going rather well.  Perfectly well in fact.  I was relatively happy and I found it fun.  That is until Hermione began to do the same thing I was.  With the same people.  It was almost as if she wanted to prove that she could take them away from me, that she was better.  And the scary thing is people are falling for it.  They're falling for her fake laugh and her fake interest in what they were saying.  They are falling for her over me.  And I am never fake.  Perhaps they really weren't worth hanging out with to begin with if they can't see through Hermione while I can.  

            The only person who has really not converted is Sarah.  Hermione has tried to talk to her, but she's backed off.  Sarah won't tell me why, but it's almost as if she told her something and now Hermione's scared of her.  If only.  

            She's in the Common Room right now actually.  Just a few tables away, chatting up with Pavarti and Lavander, the girls I _know_ she can't stand.  And it's infuriating.  I'm but a table away, facing her back and I can hear them.  Every bloody annoyingly high-pitched word. 

            Oh, I hope you can feel my death glare Hermione.  I hope it kills you.  That it causes you to burst into flames and you scream and run about in an attempt to put them out.  Maybe I can make an exception for her when I won't for all those other annoying students.  I don't think anyone would really miss her.  They never really liked her to begin with.  

            Ok.  That was a creepy chain of thoughts.  So terrible and dark.  Where the hell did they come from?!  I don't think like that!   Really I don't!  I don't!  

            Standing up quickly, I left the Common Room without a word.

~*~

            Why do pillows have to feel so soft when you can't lie on them and feel flat and hard when you can?  This is something that always bothers me when it comes time to waking up.  Especially on the weekend when I really can just lay here and stare at the ceiling, ignoring the snores of the two dolts across the room.  

            That's what I woke up to this morning: unsoft pillows.  Stupid bloody things always have to make life so difficult for me.  But then, lately it hasn't only been my pillows that have been giving me problems.  I'm beginning to suspect that the Slytherins in my house don't trust me anymore.  They seem distant in a way.  Which could just be me being paranoid, but if not... If anything it was that first year at the dinner table on Christmas.  If he's spreading the word around it won't be long until I'm confronted.  And I know it is what these stupid housemates of mine would do.  Make a big scene of it as well.  

            Well, I suppose I will just have to prove I am still a Slytherin.  Or at least what _they_ consider to be a Slytherin.  This just means I have to provoke Potter into a few fights, verbal or otherwise.  Perhaps trip a few first years.  You know, that sort of stupid shit.  As long as they keep off my back.  

            Come to think of it though, the past month or so has been rather dull.  None of them have really gone out of their way to associate themselves with me.  Even Crabbe and Goyle seem to not trail me as often as they used to, tending to stick to each other.  Not that I really miss them, but it's peculiar.  Maybe there is something up.

            But that could all simply be paranoia, and that _I_ am pushing them away myself.  That it has nothing to do with my dinner with Weasley and them all finding out and thinking vengeful Slytherin type thoughts.  That must be what it all is.  Yup.  Paranoia.  Nothing more.

            Yet despite the lack of action where my house is concerned, my father seems to be filling in.  Almost as if my absence at Christmas was sorely missed, he has taken it upon himself to send me double the amount of owls he used to.  Most of them asking for information.  Information that I willingly send back.  Properly tainted making them complete and utter bull, but words I know that will please him.  

            _Father, that fool Hagrid drank too much the other night and said…_

_            Dumbledore let it slip at Christmas dinner that…_

            The rest of the replies are quite generic and predictable.  Probably things my father already knew.  Yet he never complains if this is the case.  He simply owls back and coveys his "thanks".  Like my father could ever say thank you to _me_.  

            Yet all of this has brought me to begin to get sneaky.  There are many things the man should never know: my secret loathing of the Dark Lord, my association with Weasley and now a secret Gringgotts account.  It's just for emergencies of course, proving I am probably more paranoid than I tend to let on.  But I already have quite a large sum of money derived from birthdays and other such occasions from various relatives.  I also deposit half my monthly allowance into it.  I don't know really where the idea came from, but it seemed important to do, so I did.  

            Perhaps I am brooding too much.  Perhaps a bit of a walk is in order.  

            Neglecting anything in my dorm, I headed out of the Common Room and towards- well, anywhere but there.  The halls were a nice start.

            I honestly think though that the most disturbing and terrible situation of this entire past two months has been Weasley.  Sarcastic, bitter, cheerfully depressed Weasley.  She seems to always be on my mind.  And it's driving me insane.  It all really started after that stupid kiss I put on her cheek.  I _still don't understand why I didn't just kiss her, or why I _keep_ thinking that.  It's not like I __want to kiss her.  She's a Weasley!  And I have said again and again, and heard again and again, that Weasleys and Malfoys don't mix.  Like oil and water.  But which I am I'm not quite sure.  Not that I could see her as being the element that takes life._

            See?  No mean thoughts!  They're all not Malfoy like.  And when ever I try to force myself to think ill of her I get this image of her sitting beside me in potions looking like the world is going to end.  She thinks I don't see it, but I do.  And every time I see it, in person or in my head, I feel my heart go out to her.  I want to hold her and find out exactly what is wrong and try and fix it.  

            This is a worse situation than my father could _ever_ dish out.  Imagine, me falling for a Weasley!  It's unheard of!  She would drive me absolutely insane!  She would!  I'd be in Saint Mungos within the month of us going out.  No, let me amend that: the week!  That day!  That- oh look, there she is!

            Somehow I had managed to walk myself into the library without even realizing it.  I don't even want to think about what I must have looked like as I walked about, totally oblivious to everything.  But here I was: the library.  And there she was: sitting at her usual table at the back, with that damned depressed look.  Damn that look.

            I debated turning away.  Turn any other direction but towards her, but I found my feet would not listen to reason.  Damn treason committing feet.  I shall have to amputate you when I get the chance.  And even if I would have been able to regain control of my mutinous limbs, Weasley looked up and spotted me before I even began to move.  She's bitter _and observant.  Damn her._

            "What do you want, Malfoy?" she asked, as I seated myself across from her at the small table feeling it would be awkward to simply stand.  She glanced up at me and stared for a moment then turned her eyes back down to the book she was flipping through in a dull fashion.

            "Nothing really," I replied before I realized I was speaking.  Well at least I didn't say: You.  All I want is you.  Thank you mouth.  Perhaps I won't have to cut my tongue out after all.

            "Then why are you here?" she hissed, not even bothering to look up as she flipped page after page.  I stared at her.  I haven't heard that much vehemence from her in a while.  Though I do have to admit that her verbal fights are getting increasingly bitter.  Some of her material never even occurred to me until she said it.  

            "It's a free world," I hissed back, taking a book from a pile beside her.  "I can be where I want to be."  Potions book.  All the books seemed to be potions books.  And advanced ones at that.  "Planning something, Weasley?"

            "No," she said simply, flipping the pages faster and a touch more violently.  

            Raising an eyebrow, I simply sat there and watched her.  What else was there to do?  She was unresponsive to what I said and didn't seem too keen on sharing what she was up to.  And it was probably safer not to say anything.  Dangerous that girl is when she's distracted from what she is set on doing.  Must be the Weasley blood in her. 

            See?  Weasley blood.  Malfoy blood and Weasley blood should never mix.  Not that I would ever want to mix blood with her.  Ich.  I should leave.  Right now.

            My retreat flew from my mind as the girl before me let out a quiet frustrated shriek.  Slamming the book she was looking at shut, she tossed it across the table.

            "Screw potions," she said darkly.  She looked up at me and narrowed her eyes.  "What are you staring at?" she demanded.

            I narrowed my own eyes.  "Just never realized how many terrible freckles you had, Weasley," I sneered, not looking away.  She really did have a lot.  Well at least I didn't say something like: Your lovely eyes.  Perhaps this lack of control of my words was a curse that disappeared in the New Year.

            Her eyebrows flew up and she stared at me with a surprised look for a moment, then they lowered back to normal.  "You're joking me, right?" she asked with a slight exasperated breath.  "Draco Malfoy has fallen back to insulting physical appearances rather than blood and intelligence.  I'm impressed."  She narrowed her eyes.  "Does this mean I can comment on your freakishly pale complexion?  Cause I've been itching to say something about it for _ages_."

            I glared at her.  Well, that was uncalled for.  Ok, maybe it was, but still.  I'm not that pale.  It's winter!  What does she expect?  For me to use some fake and bake charm out of one of those stupid girly magazines?  I think not.

            She continued to stare at me, seeming to read my mind then began to smirk.  Oh, she smirks now.  But I think I mentioned that before.  Still gives me the creeps.  It's just not _right._

            "I don't think I could ever see you with a tan," she mused after a moment.  "It would make your hair look to white.  I think _that_ would look even funnier."  I began to glare darkly.  "Not that you look funny now," she added quickly.  "Well, not really anyways."

            "Why thank you," I said coldly.  "So not only did you insult my "freakishly pale complexion" but now you're calling me funny looking as well?"  She began to grin.  I glared, trying to get the voices chanting: "funny looking!" from ringing in my head with the emphasis on the "oo".

            "You started it," she pointed out.  "My freckles aren't that terrible."  She reached up and touched them as though reminding herself they were there.

            "Of course you would think that," I drawled, shaking my head in mock disbelief.  "You don't have to stare at them all the time."

            "And neither do you," she snapped, the grin still tugging at her lips.

            Well, she did have a point.

~*~

            I'm beginning to think that perhaps the library is not the best place to find solitude.  It seems when ever I come here some one finds me.  So does that mean if I want to be found, all I have to do is go to the library?  It probably won't work if I want things to go that way.  Then I will simply be alone and miserable in a room full of musty books.  And what comfort they will bring.

            So after that little rant I am sure you can deduce that I really didn't want to see anyone.  Let alone Malfoy.  Malfoy and his odd solitude.  I don't know why, but lately the boy travels alone.  No more idiots to follow him around, or those ditzes.  Not that they ever really did, or did they?  Anyway, he's all alone.  And it seems that when he's alone he manages to find me.  Goody.  

            "No," he drawled back at me, still on the topic of my freckles.  They aren't _that_ terrible are they?  It's not like I can get rid of them.  They are a part of me.  I tried to cover them with make-up once but my face was simply too bare.  It was really rather creepy.  "But they are so glaringly obvious that they are hard to miss."

            I narrowed my eyes.  Stupid Malfoy.  "You're just jealous," I hissed, knowing that I sounded like a five year old.  My brothers are always telling me so.  That's why I do it just to annoy them.

            "Jealous?" he scoffed, raising his blond eyebrows.  "Jealous of what?"

            "My freckles," I replied simply.  "You don't have any but you want some real bad.  All you have are some funny shaped moles."

            That seemed to take him by surprise.  Ha.  Score one for Ginny.  

            "I do not have _moles," he spat a me, as though it were the most offensive thought in the world.  I grinned slightly.  He really is quite vain.  At least that part of my original impression of him is still there.  He may not be evil but he does have his pride.  Oh and an over inflated ego a times._

            "Then what do you call that?" I asked, leaning across the table to poke a brownish spot on his left forearm.  "You can't tell me you think that's a beauty spot."  He followed my eyes, seeming surprised that I had touched him.  I'm a little surprised myself but I kept talking.  "That's a mole honey."

            "It is not," he sputtered, still staring down at it.  

            "You have a few more too," I added, examining his well toned arms.  "Over there, and there and oh yes, I think there is another one over there.  Yup."  I poked a few more discolored spots on his other arm as well.  I smirked up at him, all my worries from before completely erased from my mind.  Well for the moment at least.

            "Fine," he growled after a moment of staring at the discolored spots and then my hands which were still lingering by his arms.  I pulled them back suddenly very conscious of them.  "So I have a few moles.  At least they're not all over my face."

            "How do I know that?" I mused as though in thought.  "Maybe you just cover them all up with some sort of Family Malfoy make-up crap.  Then no one would know if anyone in your family would have moles.  In fact-"

            "Alright," he interrupted, raising his hands.  "Fine.  Your freckles aren't that bad.  Just stop putting these horrible ideas into my head."  

            I looked at him in surprise.  Did he just _admit that my freckles aren't that bad?  Am I going insane?  First he doesn't care what I am and now he can tolerate my freckles?  The mark of my family?  This boy is just full of surprises.  _

            After a moment of silence he spoke again.  "So what were you looking for in these books that put you in such a foul mood?"  

            I looked at him cautiously before answering.  "Nothing really," I sighed.  "Just an idea I had."

            "What sort of idea?" he asked, looking once again at the books.  He reached out to grab the one I had tossed away.  I looked down at my hands for a moment but whipped my head towards him as he gave out a vicious curse.

            "Bloody hell," he hissed, glaring down at his finger where a large paper cut now sat.  "Why do these things have to hurt so flaming much?"  He proceeded to put the offending finger into his mouth, causing him to look rather childish.  I held back a laugh for I think it only would have pissed him off.

            "Because they are small and insignificant," I replied, searching the pockets of my clothes for a Kleenex.  "If they didn't hurt a lot you wouldn't even know they were there."  Finding one, I shook it out and handed it to him.  "And the world simply doesn't work that way."

            He stared at me for a moment, finger still in his mouth.  I stared back, still holding out the Kleenex.  Another moment passed before I shrugged.  "Well it's true," I said simply, waving the white tissue towards him.  He took it and mumbled thanks, then began to wrap it around his finger.  

            "Perhaps we should leave before you cause more damage to yourself," I said sarcastically.  He did not protest so I stood up grabbing the note book I had taken in with me and he followed suit.  We slowly began to meander our way out of the library, minding the bookshelves as we went.

            We fell back into silence.  It wasn't an uncomfortable silence but more one of those silences that is held between long time friends.  I don't know what's scarier: the thought of me being friends with Malfoy or the fact that we seem to be able to get along at times as though we are old friends.  Perhaps it's a good idea not to ponder too hard on that...

            "Are you doing anything right now?" he asked suddenly, causing me to start slightly.

            I looked up at him slightly suspicious.  "Well," I said slowly.  "At the moment I am in the library, doing really nothing special."  He sent me a dirty look.  "If that's what you mean.  Why?"

            "Cause we should probably work on that potions assignment for Wednesday."  I stared at him blankly.  That was all he wanted to do.  I felt disappointment curse through me.  But why?  It's not like I _want to do anything with him.  Or do I?_

            "You do remember that assignment, don't you Weasley?" he asked after a moment of me not responding.  Come to think of it, I had forgotten.  

            "Uh," I muttered slowly.  "No?"

            He shook his head.  "Honestly, what would you do without me?  I'm sure if I wasn't in that class you would be totally to pieces."

            "Well it's not like I would have a partner," I pointed out darkly, thinking of those stupid twittering nitties in that class.

            "You could always ask Professor Snape to be your potions partner," he offered as we reached the door.  We both pushed a door open at the same time and walked though.  

            I turned and looked at him, slowing as the doors swung shut.  "Oh that will bode over well," I sneered darkly.  

            Then not knowing exactly what came over me, I stopped and clutched the notebook to my chest.  My eyes widened to the biggest puppy-dog eyes I could manage and I found myself hoping form foot to foot like some little school girl.  "Oh Professor Snape!" I squealed.  "Would you please be my potions partner?  Oh please oh please oh please?!"

            He stopped and simply stared at me for a moment.  I felt my face turn beat red.  I was torn between laughing and hiding my face.  I stared back at him then watched in amazement as the corner of his lip began to twitch upward.  Within seconds he was laughing so hard that he had to lean against the wall behind us for support.  

            "That was the most-" he gasped, still laughing.  I stared at him for a moment longer before the laughter within me boiled over and forced its way out.  "The most sad and- pathetic thing- I have _ever_ seen!"  He continued to laugh.

            It was really quite a nice laugh, not that I could hear it very well over my own peels of laughter.  I wish he would laugh like that more often.  Gah!  I didn't just think that.  No I didn't.

            "Well what do you expect," I managed to get out, as the two of us continued to laugh.  "I had chocolate before you showed up."  I dug into my pocket to reveal several empty wrappers, my comfort food for a piss-poor mood.

            I honestly don't know what's gotten into me though.  I ate those chocolates over an hour ago.  I should have been bouncing off the walls a long time ago.  And why the hell is Malfoy laughing along with me as though he finished off a whole box himself?  

            He stared at them, bringing his laughter relatively under control.  "The way you eat them, you're going to double in size," he drawled.

            I should have taken offence, but for some reason I didn't.  "Then Snape _really wouldn't want to be my potions partner," I cooed, unable to help it.  "I'll have to bribe him with chocolates.  Which do you think he likes better, the lovely creamy ones or those nasty bitter ones?"_

            "Probably the bitter ones," Malfoy responded darkly, letting out another bout of laughter.  "They match his demeanor.  Only nasty food could get it that way."  

            I giggled again, trying not to burst out laughing.  "You know," I whispered suddenly all conspiracy like.  "I have always wondered what color his hair _really_ is.  Recon it could be blond?"  Malfoy pulled a disturbed face which sent me into frenzied laughter once more.

            "Ginny!" a voice said sharply from behind me.  I jumped slightly, whipping around, all the laughter drowning in my voice at what I saw.  

            Ron was standing there with Harry beside him.  It seemed they had been headed towards the library.  Harry was staring at us with what seemed to be an unbelieving expression.  I noticed that Malfoy had stopped laughing and was standing just a touch before me.  The sobering part was my brother, standing there in a manner that seemed to scream barley controlled anger.  

            I gulped.

            Not good.

~*~

A/N: So there you go.  You get the overly paranoid and rather not right Draco along with a chocolate-buzzed, yet depressed Ginny.  Lucky you.  I think I went a little crazy with the _italics button, but that's ok.  It's fun to use.  Really it is.  So I guess I am moving this story to the next part sooner than I planned.  But that's ok, right?  All nod yes.  Good.  _

Thanks to: **Isadora**(Yeah, I think they are all _really_ OOC, but I'm having fun with them)**, Crystal, Darcel, Sharlene**(You know, it's not good to think such evil thoughts...)**, Selvagem**(Oh, don't worry. They will be making a return soon. In a big way)**, Lallie(A poopy?? ~sniff~ Now that is all sad making)****, Seshet(So you are VF's friend. ~all conspiracy like~ I've heard about you... ~grin~)****, VirtualFaerie(Oh, not that blasted spoon again. I think I'm going to go find my stick just in case...)**, paranoid**(Aww! So considerate!)**, tulzdavampslayer, aznqtpai, Jade, oliverwoodsgirl**(Why be worried about Draco?? He'll be fine. I think)**, Cay, peaceoutgrlmehi**(Wow. I think that was the longest review I have _ever_ received. Thanks. I do like the hermits idea, but I should warn you against falling out of a tree. Not a good idea I tell you)**, ee, GinnyGINvampire00_aka_Evon**(Well, since that is the case, I'll give you a little hint: liver ~grin~)****, BlinkSki182(He He. Ginny's a worm... Never mind me...)**, jlo's-lil-baby, **and** Fleur**(Hey! You reviewed! Happy day! And I told you they were the better couple! ~mutters~ yet another converty. ~insane giggling~ Uh. Never mind. But yes, don't you worry. It will be finished. It's all planed out. In my head...)****.**

So yes, Action, Fighting, Romance, Danger and perhaps some more trees coming soon to this fic near you.  Ok.  I know it was corny.  Just- You know what?  Just review.  Thanks.


	9. Red Headed Angry Tanks

Title: The Truth About Trees

Author: Tiny Q

E-Mail: one_legged_lesbian_seagull@hotmail.com

A/N: Gah.  Sorry this took so very long.  I had a lot of problems with this chapter, and I still don't like it.  Not at all.  If you guys agree that it just really doesn't sound right, tell me and I will attempt to fix it.  Gah.  Oh well.  I probably won't post again until after I've finished with Order of the Phoenix.  So I will wish you happy reading and a wonderful release date!  ~smiles and waves~

Disclaimer:  I own nothing!  My sanity isn't even mine any more.  Nope.  I sold it for $4.99.  But then, I'm sure you could tell...  

**The Truth About Trees**

**Chapter 9**

**Red Headed Angry Tanks**

~*~

            We stood there, staring at the two Gryffindors before us, the laughter dieing in our throats.  I was standing in front of Weasley female, so I could not see her face without actually turning to see it.  Something I didn't think would be too wise with the menace before us.  Yet I was sure that it would look as stunned as I was beginning to feel.  Weasley looked so mad.  And not just at me, it seemed to be directed at her as well.  I narrowed my eyes.

            "Ginny," the tall red head hissed at his sister.  I never realized how large he had gotten.  Not only was he tall but he seemed as though he could give Crabbe and Goyle a run for their money in an arm wrestle.  "What the _hell do you think you are doing?!"_

            "Laughing," the girl behind me replied simply.  I glanced back at her, ignoring the two before us.  Her face seemed to mirror the anger of her brother's.  It must be a Weasley thing.  

            "With _him?" he demanded.  I whipped my head around and sneered at him.  I was about to open my mouth when Weasley beat me to it._

            "I don't think who I laugh with has anything to do with you, Ron," she snarled.  I saw Weasley's eyes widen in surprise.  Then narrow with barely controlled anger.  I glanced at Potter.  He seemed to be simply standing there, in conflict between glaring at me and looking sympathetically at the girl.  

            "When it concerns Malfoy it bloody well does," the tallest boy hissed.  My hand began to itch for my wand.  How dare he speak about me as though I was not here?  I made to prove that I actually was, thinking that blasting him into oblivion with my wand would do the trick.  But once again, her words stopped me before I could take action.

            "I don't think so," she scoffed angrily.  

            "I agree," I hissed in agreement instead, ideas of destruction briefly leaving my mind.  I think it's a less messy way of getting a point across.  Even if it is a little less satisfying.  Merlin, I sound like my father.

            "_You_ stay out of this," the red head hissed, turning on me.  "It's bad enough that you have corrupted her away from us-"

            "Him?!" the girl shrieked.  Her brother turned sharply towards her.  "He has had nothing to do with that decision.  If I hadn't decided to back off, and for good reason, I would have gone _insane_ having to listen to the three of you rant and rave about your fucked up love triangle."  The Weasley before me seemed about ready to protest but she wasn't finished yet.  "So what if I'm friends with Malfoy?  He's a far better friend than you ever were."

            Silence.

            Did Weasley just call me her friend?  Me?  A Weasley's friend?  How did that happen?  Well I suppose we have been around each other a fair bit.  And we have heard each other's secrets.  But friends?  The tall red head before me seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

            "You have got to be kidding me," he sneered, seeming to try to keep himself from succumbing to a moment of blind rage.  A most terrifying experience now a days I'm sure.  "This has to be some sick and twisted joke.  Ginny, tell me you're joking."

            I glanced back at her.  She avoided my eyes, completely red in the face.  It was almost as if she had not meant to say what she had.  I wondered briefly about what that could mean, but pushed it from my mind.  Now was definitely not the time.  

            She took a small breath then raised her eyes to her brother's once more.  "It's not a joke," she said firmly, her voice not betraying the surprise and shock that was clearly written across her face.  I stared.  So did the other two across from us.

            After a moment the Weasley spoke again.  "There is no way..." he trailed off, going redder than he had been before, resembling an apple or something else equally as red.  It really rather clashed with his hair, making it dim in contrast.  "There is no way I am going to allow you to fraternize with this, this monster."

            "Who are you calling a monster?" I growled, suddenly deciding to make a stand.  I know I should have earlier but what Ginny had said totally threw me off.  Merlin, did I just call her "Ginny"?  I'm losing it.  "Have you looked in a mirror lately?"

            "I said stay out of this!" Ron yelled at me, his blue eyes flashing angrily.  "You've done enough!  Just look at her!  She's wasting away and it's all your fault!"  

            "It is not his fault!" Ginny screamed back, taking a step forward.  It was the first movement any of the four of us had made since this ordeal started.  I glanced from her to her brother.  They both seemed so angry that I had trouble deciding which was worse.  Potter seemed about ready to intervene.  Wasn't peace keeping Granger's department?  But things have obviously changed lately.  "It is in no way his fault!"

            "Then whose is it?" Weasley demanded of his sister.  "Yours?  Mine?  Harry's?!"  He glared at her.

            "All of ours!" she shrieked.  "It's all our fucking faults!  Mine more so than any of you for putting my trust into your screwed up group in the first place!  I never should have gone _near you!  I should have just stayed on my own!  With my own friends and not become a minion of the Dream Team!"_

            "A minion?" Weasley growled.  "You were never a minion."

            "Oh bull shit," she swore at him.  "You know I was, but you just don't want to admit you were wrong.  You never do.  You never have.  It's been your one fault all through your life Ron and I think you should have realized that a long time ago!  But then-"

            "Shut up!" Weasley screamed at his sister, taking her by surprise.  Not to mention Potter and I as well.  He took a step towards her.  "I'm one not to realize my faults?"  He took another step forward.  Potter grabbed onto his arm but the boy flung it off without even a backward glance.  I also took a step to intervene.  I couldn't see Weasley actually hitting his sister, but I just felt like I was needed.  Here we go again with this whole subconscious warning bit.  

            "Ginny, you are the most fucked up person I know," he yelled.  I heard Ginny take in a sharp breath of air.  

            "Ron," Potter warned, the first words he had spoken the entire time.

            "You sit there and act all high and mighty," Weasley continued completely ignoring his friend.  "Like the world should revolve around you and you alone.  And you're bitter because it doesn't.  You're antisocial because of a stupid mistake you made when you were _eleven.  Eleven for Merlin's sake!  It's not like Riddle is going to posses the next decent person you put your trust in and kill you!" _

            "Ron," Potter warned once more, taking a step closer to his friend.  "You're hurting her."

            "I don't care!" he raved back at him, turning back to his sister.  He dropped his voice slightly and glared at me.  "I suppose that is why you are hanging around with _him," he sneered, gesturing towards me.  "He seems to be just like Riddle, doesn't he?  Just with blond hair."_

            I looked at Ginny to see silent tears running down her face.  Her eyes so wide with disbelief that I was sure they would pop out of her skull.  It actually would have been kind of funny if it hadn't been real.  But it was.  And I felt my heart hurt.  Actually hurt.  For her.  For a Weasley.  She didn't even look at me, just continued to stare at her brother who still stood as though he wanted to beat the living daylights out of something.

            "I can't believe you just said that to your sister," I spat.  Well, I guess the control I thought I had gotten back had left once again.  Shit.  I hadn't meant to say anything, but I guess I can't back down now.  Weasley glared at me.  "And here I thought family was supposed to stick up for each other."

            "And what the hell do you know about family, Malfoy?" he sneered at me, spitting my name as though it were a swear.  

            "Obviously a lot more than you do," I drawled, fighting off this sudden mental image of me busting his kneecaps.  That would be a cheap shot really.   

            "I highly doubt that," the red head sneered.  "You whose father is a fucking Death Eater."

            I felt rage boil inside me worse than I had ever felt.  So what if my father is a fucking Death Eater?!  I'm nothing like my father!  And why does everyone have to rub it in my face?  It's not like I rub Weasley's stupidity in his face!  Ok.  Maybe I do, but still!  Who the hell is he to tell _me_ that I will take after my father?  So I was an ass as a child and still act like one now, doesn't mean you have to stereotype me as evil.  

            For some irrational reason I felt like I could kill him.  It wasn't like people had never said such things to me before.  Especially these two dolts before me who seem to take malicious glee in doing it.  But I really didn't care at that moment.  I didn't care about my wand anymore.  I simply wanted to rip his eyes out with my own bare hands.

            "He has nothing to do with his father, Ron," Ginny suddenly whispered quietly from beside me, pulling me from my violent thoughts.  I looked at her, and she glanced at me for the first time.  She smiled slightly, despite the tears that shimmered on her face.  

            "And I suppose he told you that," Weasley sneered.  "How do you know he's not a Death Eater himself?"

            I heard something snap in my head.  No.  Rather, I felt it.  Before I knew what I was doing, I lunged at the tall red head before me.  

            Damn the consequences.

~*~

            I stood there, feeling as though my legs were about to give way beneath me.  My brother's words were tearing through my head, hissing at every part of me that I thought I knew.  Were they true?  Am I really that self-centered?  Do I give off the impression that the world revolves around me?  Am I really running from Riddle every moment of my life?  Is that why I am really putting my trust in Malfoy?  Because he reminds me of Riddle?

            Malfoy wasn't evil.  He told me so.  It's all just an act.  Well he told me that part indirectly, but it's still true.  He wants nothing to do with his father.  I told my brother so but he didn't seem to believe me.  I looked over at Malfoy in an attempt to tell him that I do still believe him.  

            It's not fair that he has to be here while my brother is being the biggest ass.  Come to think of it, I haven't seen him blow up at me like this since he was nine.  But I won't get into that.

            A small, strangled cry from the blond beside me caused me to turn sharply to look at him.  Before I realized what had happened, he had launched himself at my brother.  

            "Malfoy!" I called, more alarmed for his safety than my brother's.  I knew my brother could hold his own in a fight.  That's what worried me.  Sure, Malfoy was toned and tall, but it was a Seeker's build, like Harry's.  Ron was like a tank.  A very angry tank.  

            I leapt forward after a moment in an attempt to pry the two of them off of each other before too much damage was done.  Harry did the same.  Yet our attempts at pulling the blond and red head apart were in vain for they kept on fighting anyway.

            "Ron stop it!" I shrieked as he gave Malfoy a nasty right hook, even though the other was on top of my brother and was pummeling him with his fists.  He flew to the side, and Ron took the opportunity to take the upper hand and began to beat Malfoy like there was no tomorrow, leaving the other little chance to defend himself.  "Stop!"

            I stared at the two battling seventh years in desperation.  I felt so useless.  So unheard.  And the thoughts of what I would do if one of them was killed or permanently damaged raged through my head.  I knew I was over reacting but- I don't really know why.

            "Harry," I cried to him, feeling frustrated tears sting my eyes and pour down my already wet face.  "Stop them!  Please!"  

            Harry stared at me for a moment, seeming to be hurting in his own way.  I realized what I had said in my anger must have had more effect on him than it had on Ron.  I suddenly felt so awful, realizing what my brother had said was right: I am self centered.  I'm a terrible person.  I opened my mouth to apologize.

            "Not now," he said, looking away.  "You grab his left arm, I'll get his right."  

            I nodded and we moved forward as one.  I latched onto my brother's arm as hard as I could, just as he was bringing it back to hit Malfoy for the umpteenth time.  

            "Ron stop," I said firmly.  "You've done enough."

            "She's right," Harry agreed from the other side of my large brother, holding onto his right arm.  "No matter how much I want to see this bastard get his ass kicked, you're going to kill him."

            "I am not," my brother hissed, glaring down at Malfoy, who was now scrambling to get to his feet.  His face was twisted in a way that I have never seen.  It scared me.  "I was just going to make sure that he could never smirk again."  

            He spat blood to the floor.

            It was then that I realized just how much damage Malfoy had done.  It looked like my brother's nose was broken and his left eye was beginning to swell.  Maybe even a broken tooth as well.  There were probably many other wounds that I just couldn't see.

            I would have expected Malfoy to be in worse shape than my brother, considering his size.  Yet he seemed to be none worse off than Ron: bleeding nose, swelling right eye, sliced lip.  He stared at us, leaning back against the wall for support, the twisted expression fading slightly as his eyes fell on me.  Then he looked away, seemingly ashamed.  A Malfoy?  Ashamed?  I pushed the thought from my mind.

            Harry started to heave Ron to his feet, and I helped.  As soon as he was standing, I flung his arm down.  "I can't believe you Ron," I hissed.  I glared at him, feeling anger course through me like a river.  Then I started to feel pain.  His words were coming back to my mind.  I turned sharply away.  It was easier to forget them when I didn't have his bloody face as a reminder.  

              Shaking my head, both in disgust and in an attempt to clear my head, I walked over to Malfoy.  "Are you alright?" I asked softly.  There was so much blood.

            "Do I look alright, Weasley?" he snapped.  I stared at him.  Remember, Gin, he's still a Malfoy.  A Malfoy who just got the crap beaten out of him.  Of course he's going to be a bit cranky.  

            "No," I said solemnly.  "You look like shit."

            "Well thanks," he muttered, turning to glare at my brother once more.  Harry was beginning to lead him away.  Most likely to the Hospital Wing before Hermione could see the state of her boyfriend.  Merlin forbid.

            "I'm not leaving her alone with him," Ron suddenly burst out when he realized what was happening.  I glared at him.

            "No worries, brother dearest," I sneered, showing my discontent.  "We're coming too."  To prove my point I reached over and grabbed Malfoy's hand.  He stared at me in surprise but I ignored him.  

            Frankly, at the moment I was too full of emotion to much care what was happening.  Even though my brother was walking away from me, it felt like his presence was still right before me.  Reminding me.  I felt that at any moment I would simply stop and scream as loud as my lungs would allow.  Or drop to the ground and cry my eyes out until I could cry no more.  Either way, I had a feeling that it wouldn't do me much good, so I shoved my emotions to the back of my mind, figuring I would deal with them later.  It was the same thing I had done with that bloody diary.

            I turned to Malfoy, after my brother and Harry had made it half way down the hall.  

            "Coming?" I asked, pulling on his hand a bit.

            He glared at me for a moment then allowed me to lead him to the infirmary.

            We walked in complete silence, the only sound being our shoes hitting the tile beneath us.  It was a touch more uncomfortable than the silence we had held just a while before.  Yet I didn't dare break it.  I didn't dare.  There were far too many terrible things that could rush out at the absolute wrong moment and make things much worse than they already were.  Staring straight ahead seemed to be the wisest course of action.  Malfoy didn't seem to disagree.

            It didn't take too long to get to the hospital wing.  Probably less than five minutes.  Five minutes of which I never did let go of Malfoy's hand.  Not that I am complaining or anything.  His hands are rather nice to the touch.  I did not just think that.

            My brother and Harry were already there when we arrived.  Madam Pomfrey seemed to be beside herself with anger and perhaps disappointment as well.  

            "Honestly, Mr. Weasley," she hissed at him while he sat on one of the room's many beds.  "Fighting at your age.  You would think after seven years you would have smartened up."

            I could tell my brother wanted to snap something back, but he seemed to hold his tongue.  Quite a feat really.  I would have congratulated him, but his words threatened to return to my mainstream consciousness.  

            It took a moment for the vexed matron to turn to us, and when she did her furry only seemed to increase.  

            "So you were the other one," she almost growled.  If I wasn't mistaken, I could have sworn by her attitude that the woman expected no less from the boy beside me.  How could she judge him so?  She doesn't know the real him.  But then I remembered that no one else _does know the real him.  I don't even know all of the real him.  I don't think even __he knows the real him._

            Everyone in the room seemed to stop and stare at the two of us.  I realized they were looking at our hands.  Malfoy seemed to realize the same thing for he dropped mine as though it had burned him.  A feeling burned through me, but I shoved it aside like the others.  

            "Well come and sit over here," Pomfrey gestured to the bed beside Ron's.

            Malfoy hesitated a moment, then silently walked over and took his seat as he was told.  I stood there for a moment, watching as the matron examined his face, tutting at what she saw.

            "I am going to have to report this to your Heads of Houses," she said sternly.  Neither of the wounded seventh years seemed affected by this.  

            I glanced around the room and spotted Harry seated on the opposite wall.  I sent him a weak smile.  He barely returned the gesture.  It was then that I realized that I had really fucked up.  Not only my own life, but Harry's life as well.  Perfect, I finally get the stupid Boy Who Lived to put his trust in me, and I practically throw it in his face to hurt my own brother.        A feeling of disgust washed over me so strong that I felt like I would be sick.

            I turned and left the hospital wing.

~*~

            I sat there, holding back a hiss of pain as the woman before me mended my wounds.  I knew she was making a point to not be gentle about it.  Stupid woman never liked me.  I know she doesn't.  Something to do with my father but I am not quite sure what.  Well fuck her.

            That idiot beside me really did do a touch more damage than I expected him too.  But then really, what did I expect?  To beat the crap out of him and come away perfectly unharmed?  Just look at the size of him!  What was I thinking?  I am beginning to suspect that I wasn't thinking at all.

            First I was laughing, the hardest I think I have ever laughed, at Weasley's sheer stupidity.  That alone shows that I wasn't quite thinking properly.  Laugh at a Weasley's jokes?  Even if they are rather entertaining.  Next I am flying at her brother in an attempt to kill him.  And if not kill, then seriously damage.  Yeah, go me.  Get sent to Azkaban before my father.  Now that is a feat all on its own.  Or it would have been if Potter and Weasley hadn't pulled the brute off.

            But as to why Weasley isn't completely appalled at me for what I did I don't understand in the slightest.  All she did was simply take my hand and lead me to the hospital wing.  Even after all the terrible things her brother said, you would think she would be a bit angrier that I attacked her only brother in the school.  Even if he did deserve it.

            But then again, I can't even begin to comprehend why I actually attacked.  Sure, the guy was insulting me by means of my terrible father, but seriously now.  It's not the first time and I know it will not be the last.  Am I going to attack every single bastard that does?  I won't last that long if I do.  But then there is the other option.  The scary option.  Did I attack him for _her?  For all those terrible things he said to her?  All those terribly untrue things?  _

            Well maybe some of them were true, but she was not ready to hear them.  Not ready at all.  And especially not in the way she did.  If I did attack for that reason, then what does it mean?  It's something a hero would do.  Something someone who cares would do.  And I don't care.  I don't.  Or do I?

            "You do know that if you hurt her, I'll kill you," a voice suddenly sliced through my turbulent mind, pulling me away from having to decide on that terrible idea.  

            I looked at the Weasley across from me.  He looked completely back to normal and I felt a pang of jealousy for I still felt like shit.  Damn woman and her favorites.  I glanced around; she seemed to be in her office.  Probably calling Snape and McGonagall.  Bloody snitch.  

            "Did you hear me, Malfoy?" the red head across from me demanded, keeping his voice down.  I looked at him and narrowed my eyes.

            "I think you have already hurt her enough for the both of us," I sneered, shaking my head in disgust.  I heard Potter snort slightly, but I ignored him.

            Weasley glared at me, seeming to debate in his head as to whether or not to lunge across the small space between our beds and attempt to kill me once more.  His mind must be a small place.  

            "Just stay the hell away from her," he finally managed after a moment of what seemed to be intense and difficult thinking.  Stupid dolt.

            In response I simply raised my eyebrow.  And leave her to manage you fools by herself?  I did not just think that.

            "They're on their way," Madam Pomfrey's voice suddenly rang across the room from her office door.  "Mr. Potter, they have asked you to stay as well."  Potter shrugged and leaned back further in his seat.  

            I stared at him.  He seemed disturbed, though as to why I'm not quite sure.  And it's not like I care either.  He's bloody fucking Potter for Merlin's sake.  What does it matter to me if he's having a bad day?  It's bad enough that I care if Weasley has a bad day, let alone Mr. Hero over there.

            The door to the infirmary opened once more, and Snape and McGonagall walked in.  And let me tell you this: they did not look happy.  Not one little bit.

~*~

            I really had no idea as to where I was going.  All I knew was that I didn't want to be in the same room as my brother.  That I didn't want to see Harry's crushed face.  I wasn't really surprised when I found myself outside.  It was a relatively nice day: overcast and rather windy, with very little snow remaining on the ground.  It had been sunny for the past few weeks and I often found myself longing for rain.  And it seemed like it was going to come soon.  

            Yet even the weather couldn't cheer me up.  I headed towards the tree I usually sit in.  The same tree I had found Malfoy in all those months ago.  It seemed bigger, more menacing somehow.  I don't know how, it just did.  I stood at the base and stared up at it.  How can I be scared of a tree?  Why now all of a sudden.  

            Frowning, I took my robes off and hung them on their usual branch.  Swallowing my unnecessary fear, I proceeded to climb.  But not as high as usual.  I only managed a few branches, only bringing me about eight feet above the ground.  Ginny, you are such a fool.  Scared of a tree.  What rubbish.

            I sat against the trunk, leaning against it as though my life depended on it.  The ancient plant's sheer stability gave me little comfort though.  And as I looked out at the lake I could only feel very very small.  The lake was turbulent though, giving me but the smallest sense of comfort.  It was like my mind.  Like my mood.  Dark and angry.  

               I sat there for a bit then suddenly, seeming to have no stimulus, everything I had been pushing back seemed to flow over me.  I felt tears sting my eyes once more and my breathing became sharp.  I hadn't cried, really cried, in such a long time, and I really didn't feel like making today the day that run ended.  Yet the tears still came and I found myself leaning even further against the tree, hoping that everything would just go way.  But it didn't.  I knew it never would.

            I knew I was being selfish, sitting there, sulking and brooding, acting like a great child.  There were probably a thousand things I could do rather than sit there and feel sorry for myself.  But I really did not want to be doing anything else.  I didn't feel like it.  I didn't feel like doing anything but sit here in this tree and cry over how awfully terrible my life is.

            How my own brother thinks I'm a selfish little brat that expects the whole world to bend at my will.  And maybe I am.  Maybe I am a selfish bitch and I just never realized it.  Or maybe I did realize it, but just ignored it because it's too hard of a habit to change.  Maybe it's not even that hard and I'm just too selfish to realize it.  Which then brings me back to my brother's initial point.

            And then there was his other point.  The hardest blow he could ever dish out.  Riddle.  How could he have said that?  I know he was trying to hurt me, to get through to me, but to use _him_?  The man who haunts my dreams and torments my mind when I dwell too much about the past?

            But could he have been right?  Now that is a bloody scary thought all on its own.  Do I really fear Riddle in everyone I meet?  A subconscious fear that I could find him in anyone?  And then it causes me to shy away from other people?  Decent people?  It's preposterous really, but now that I think about it, it could be true.  Very true.  I don't hold many people all that close, is this the reason why?  Too many people are hard to keep track of.  You never know if one might turn on you, try and bring you down while still holding the facade of trust.  

            So then there is all that fear, some of it well placed where certain individuals are concerned, yet I still go off and find the most terrible person I can find.  Malfoy.  It's almost as if I am trying to see if what happened the first time will happen again.  To see if I can place my trust in someone I shouldn't be able to and see if maybe I can make things happen differently, that it really wasn't my fault the first time round that I got used.  

            And it's a damn stupid idea.  If I try and get hurt I will.  It's simple as day.  And it is even stupider to think that Malfoy could not hurt me.  He could.  So easily if he turns out to be just as everyone sees him.  And really, how do I know for certain that he isn't?  All I have to go on is what he has said.  And since I apparently don't trust anyone that shouldn't mean anything to me.  But how can I think that?  I really am a selfish bitch.  Malfoy lives this terrible, hidden life and here I am, twisting it to make it seem like a plot against me.  How can I do that so easily?  View him so pettily?

            And it's not the first time I have ever done this.  No.  Back when this year all started I took Harry and Hermione's breakup to be a personal attack on myself.  I think I realize that now.  Harry had needed my support and all I could do was tell him how hard it was on _me.  Me!  How could I have actually done such a thing?  He didn't need that.  No one needed that.  _

            Self centered seems to be the real me, now that I think about it.  I am always thinking about myself over others.  Thinking Malfoy will hurt me.  I will probably end up hurting him before he gets the chance to hurt me.  Just like Harry.  Maybe it would be better if I never even existed?  To never have opened that damned chamber and cause all those problems.  To never have gotten involved with the damned Dream Team.  

            More selfish thoughts.

            I honestly would have kept thinking in self-pitying circles like that for hours if not for the noise.  My lovely little bubble of angst was shattered and I realized that I was very much alone by the forest, sitting on some tree branch.  And it had gotten rather dark.  Have I really been out here that long?

            I heard the noise again.  

            Looking around, I realized that this time there would be no Malfoy to come and stand by me if something was amiss.  I reached for my wand but realized to my horror that it wasn't there. 

            It was in my robe pocket.  Five feet bellow me.  

            I began to scramble to get it, feeling urgency upon my heart that something was not right.  Not that my wand would help me much if something really was wrong, but it would bring me reassurance.  

            I started to blindly climb down the tree, trying to keep an eye on the woods for anything frightening and evil.  I was just reaching with my foot for the next branch that I knew was there when I felt something yank on my foot.  Hard.  My hands gave way and the tree fell away from me.

            I hit the ground and everything went black.

~*~

A/N: Ahh.  Lovely teen angst.  Teen angst and confusion.  Just puts a smile on my face.  Ok.  That was sarcasm there if you didn't pick up on it.  Next chapter things will take a bit of an unworldly twist, but after that we should get back to "reality".  Just hang tight my dears.  ~grin~  But what's this?  A cliffhanger??  Oh dear.  Guess you'll have to wait until I update again.  Though you _could encourage me to write faster if you want..._

Many many thanks to: **cashew**(A broomstick? So many ways to punish her. I'll add this one to the list then. ~grin~)**, Lallie**(Yes, it was very much appreciated. And my bitterness is not my fault I tell you. Well maybe it is... But it's amplified! A Bitter Ginny Doll...?)**, Lady Laughs-A-Lottimes2(I love your name. ~grin~)****, Ami3, Isadora, ****Crystal****, tulzdavampslayer, Gusha(Tornados? ~shudders~ Don't muh care for those. Interesting theory though...)**, katie moffat, Sharlene, paranoid(**Good to hear!)**, VirtualFaerie**(You never heard of Fake-n-Bake before? During the winter everyone's so pale and you can always tell when some one has a fake tan cause they're all pasty on Friday and come back all brown on Monday. ~giggles~)****, peaceoutgrlmehi(Well it was defiantly shorter. ~grin~ But I'm still not too keen on them hermits...)**, Fleur(**Yes dear. I just love making you wait. La La La. Rhineland!)****, ****Tigris(why thank you ~grin~)****, Azalea(Because I love them! Mwa ha ha)****, Ariel Malfoy, GinnyGINvampire00 aka Evon(I feel embarrassed now. I actually did it... but it _is a weird coincidence...)_****, Singtoangels(Sorry, but I just couldn't wait any longer)****, Seshet(Of course they were all good! Well except for that- JK ~grin~)****, Lily of the Shadow(It's probably because amusing is such a wonderful word! Falling off of couches eh? I'm beginning to get the feeling that it comes from falling off of anything. lol)**, patheticlosertimes3**(I'm glad you liked GBA, but that Draco was older than this one, so I don't know if I can make him the same. But I could possibly give him a few of the same traits...)**, ghostcourt, bekkletimes3(**Galdarint??)****, Cay(Not yet...)****, Charleipotter and ****Cactuskitty(Catcher in the Rye? I've never read it. Is it worth reading?)**.****


	10. Caged

Title: The Truth About Trees

Author: Tiny Q

E-Mail: one_legged_lesbian_seagull@hotmail.com

A/N: Hi all!  Well here it is!  The 10th chapter!  I can't believe I've made it to 10 and I'm still not done!  Bah!  I suppose it's good for all of you who enjoy it, but not good for me. I want it out of my head!  I want to finish it before I go to University in September or at least get it all out.  But saying that it probably won't happen.  

Now on to more important issues: I read OotP, loved it and adored it and plan to draw a hundred pictures from it.  But it apparently conflicts with this story now.  For one, Ginny's all datey and Draco's a complete and utter ass.  I really didn't like him in the book.  Terrible of me to say, I know, but I still have hope that he'll learn.  HE HAS TO!  Gah!  All I really need to say though is that I am going to continue on with the plan I have and not use anything from the fifth book.  I suppose this is an alternate universe fic now, but then, aren't all fan fics?

Disclaimer:  The usual: I own nothing.  ~sniff~  No sanity, no Draco.  Yet I still own my nose.  If anyone is interested in a slightly used nose, I'll begin negotiations at $5.99.  ~grin~

**The Truth About Trees******

**Chapter 10**

**Caged**

~*~

            _There were once two friends who lived on a mountain in an old, forgotten valley.  The surrounding nature and creatures were their friends.  Yet one tree in particular was the most precious to them, a large, massive tree that had been there many an age._

_            One day, the two friends were forced to go on a quest of grave importance.  The entire world's existence depended upon it, though the valley itself would not be affected.  The human of the two friends signed his name into the bark of the tree so it would never forget them.  The elf of the two simply drew his name in the sand fearing harm to his massive friend._

_            When it came time to leave, the human found that he could not find his elvish friend.  He looked high and low until he found himself at the large tree._

_            He stood there and stared at the giant plant for a moment.  It seemed more intimidating that it ever had before.  The human once again said goodbye to the tree and began to leave, figuring his friend was somewhere else._

_            It was then that the mighty tree reached down, grabbed a rock and threw it at the human.  He was so shocked at what the tree had done that he just stood there.  Rock after rock was thrown until the human had the sense to run.  _

_            Yet it did not help.  Still the rocks came, getting larger every time.  He jumped into the water figuring a massive tree such as that could not swim.  He was mistaken.  The tree caught him and dragged him down, seeking his revenge.  _

_            The elf was never found._

~*~

            I awoke from the dream with a start, holding back a yelp of surprise.  It really hadn't made any sense, a dream like that.  Why would a tree want to seek revenge?  Not to mention poses the ability to swim.  Yet I sat there for a moment, breathing heavily, hearing the blood rush though my ears.  I tired to shut the dream away, tried to erase the image of the giant angry tree from my mind's eye.  It was one of those tricky dreams though.  The kind that just don't like to leave.  But it was then I realized something was wrong.

            Terribly wrong.

            I wasn't in my bed at Hogwarts.  I wasn't even in my dorm room anymore.  But I was still in _a bed.  A massive one covered in silk sheets and over stuffed pillows.  It simply wasn't _mine_.  I was beginning to feel a touch of panic, and I mean who wouldn't if they woke up from a dream like that only to realize that their teddy bear is missing, not to mention the rest of their residence.  And it wasn't like I was just in some room.  I seemed to be in a cave.  Not one of those dank and dreary caves.  It was actually rather well lit, but it was still a cave.  _

            I was beginning to get the feeling that perhaps I was still dreaming.  Either that or I had walked in my sleep somewhere where there's a cave.  Favoring the former option I pinched my arm.  Yet all I accomplished was to draw blood.  I stared at.  Not good.  I looked around.  My surroundings were still the same.  Really not good.

            But I was now beginning to realize that my location was not the only thing that was not right in this picture.  No.  My hair was different.  It had been short and sexy the last time I checked, but now it was long and wavy.  And not just, "Oh wow.  You have long hair." type of long.  It was the sort of long that was like: "My God!  How long have you been growing that stuff for?!"  If I stood up it would be far past my knees.  And it was thick and full, not that limp scraggly stuff you usually see when hair gets too long.  

            I grabbed at it, staring at in disbelief.  My hair would never look like this of I actually grew it.  Never.  It's just too thin.  In the process of looking at it however I noticed that my clothes had changed as well.  I was now dressed in one of those white old fashioned nighties.  The kind you would normally never get me within twenty feet of.  I _hate nighties.  It makes me feel like I'm sleeping in a dress.  And for some reason my legs always get tangled up in them.  Their just all around ucky feeling sleep wear.  _

            But seriously now.  What the hell was going on?  I sure as hell didn't do this.  And who on Earth would?  Or want to move me to a cave and put me on this expensive looking bed?  It just wasn't right.  And how did they get me here?  Did they snatch me up in my sleep?  And if so, then how did they get past all the people in my dorm?  They are _not_ heavy sleepers.  Well Sam isn't anyway, can't say much for the rest of the lot.  That girl _always hears me when I move about, not to mention try to leave the dorm._

            Then it hit me.

            The tree.

            Something had grabbed me and pulled me out of the tree.  

            I felt my heart stop.  

            I've been kidnapped.  

            Suddenly, memories of the two fifth years rushed into my mind.  Was this the same creature that had grabbed them?  But then why this "nice" treatment?  Well it would be nice if you consider hair growing charms, old fashioned clothes and comfy beds from unknown parties nice.  Did the others receive the same treatment?  Then why did they end up in the hospital wing?  Was that where I was going to end up when all this was through?  I felt fear grip my heart so hard I almost whimpered.  

            Scrambling to my knees, I crawled over to the edge of the massive bed I was on.  I was intent on getting out of here before who ever brought me came back.  Yet the closer I got to the edge of the bed, the more my heart dropped.  There were bars all around the bed.  I hadn't seen them before because they seemed to be made out of some sort of opaque crystal that didn't catch in the light and was entirely transparent.  Only when I was nose to bar did I realize it was there.  

            So I did the only rational thing a girl in my position would do: I began to bang on the bars.  And trust me I hit them as hard as I could, using fists, shoulder and foot.  But it didn't seem to work very well.  They didn't even make a noise when struck!  So then I grabbed onto one and began to pull and tug as hard as I could, bring my feet up to rest on bars on opposite sides.  Only good that did was to get my body completely in the air.  Yet still no response.  Pushing didn't seem to help much either.  

            Now I was really starting to panic.  I was trapped.  Suddenly the bed didn't seem as big as it had before.  In fact it seemed quite small.  Very small.  I moved to attempt escape on another bar.  

            "You do know trying to escape is futile," a voice said rather snootily from my right.  It was a rather rough voice that somehow reminded me of wind on bark. 

            I turned my head towards it and bit back a startled cry.  The creature before me looked like a tree!  I don't even want to consider the irony of the situation, not to mention the thought that _this was the creature who had changed my clothes.  _

            It didn't look exactly like a tree though.  Actually, if it wasn't all green and had bark like skin, it probably could have passed for a pretty good looking guy.  If you went for excessively lanky.  And if you could look past the face.  The body was that of a toned and well muscled guy, but the face did not seem to reflect the rest of the body.  It seemed too sinister, a touch too ugly.  Not Quasimodo mind you, but just, I don't really know how to describe it.  Just _wrong.  _

            And it almost seem to realize this as well for it had longish, green-black hair all in dreads falling into it's face.  All muddy and flecked with tree leaves of a lighter shade.  Yet even behind it I could see bright golden eyes staring through at me.  I shivered.  They seemed to pierce right through me.  Worse than Dumbledore's, and that's saying something.  

            "What are you?" I gasped, finding my voice.  I couldn't take my eyes off of it.  Terribly rude I know, but I just couldn't.   It stared back at me with a mixture of amusement and a hint of maliciousness.  Good going Ginny, just insult the thing why don't you.  Great way to make friends.  Especially friends who apparently have you in a cage. 

            "I'm surprised that you don't recognize me," it said idly, looking down at it's nails.  They were about four inches long and the same green-black color as it's hair.  I tried not to think of how badly they would hurt to have dragged down your flesh.  "I'm sure they teach you about my kind in that school of yours."

            I stared at him blankly.  Nope.  I do not think we have ever learnt about anything like this thing.  I think it would give people nightmares.  It was just so unnatural and yet so natural it was almost lovely.  What a juxtaposition.

            "No," I said slowly, backing away slightly from the crystal like bars.  I was getting this terrible feeling that the thing could get in.  And I couldn't get out.  "I don't think we have ever learnt about, uh, your kind."

            The creature cocked it's head.  "Pity," it said almost mistily then stepped towards the bed.  It moved so oddly, so unnaturally that I felt myself recoil slightly.  He stopped and stared at me with those eyes for a moment, seeming to sum up all that I was.  I didn't like it.  Not in the slightest.  "I'm a Tree Daemon," it said simply, seeming to smirk.  It was far worse than Malfoy's smirk could ever be.  I suddenly wished that Malfoy was beside me.  "You can call me Joe."

            "Joe?" I asked in surprise before I could contain myself.  Stupid stupid stuipd.

            "Well I need a name, don't I?" it sneered.  Well I guess it's a "he" then if it has a name like "Joe".

            "Of course," I said quickly.  Perhaps a little too quickly.  "It just seems a little, odd."

            He stare at me again for a moment and I felt goose bumps run along my arms.  Then Joe's slit of a mouth seemed to crack into a grin.  I tried not to grimace.  "I suppose it does.  But that is of no matter.  I can no longer change it."

            I started.  It was talking to me as though it wanted me to understand.  That it wanted me to think that there was nothing amiss.  That people were taken from trees everyday and put into this situation.

            "Why am I here?" I asked quickly, before I even realized what I was saying.  Ginny, you dolt!  

            The grin did not fade away as I feared it would.  "Ah humans," it said with a slightly dreamy tone, staring at me with what almost appeared to be adoration.  "Always so quick to demand knowledge."  He stared a moment longer.  "But I will tell you I suppose.  It's the least I can do."  I don't like the sound of that.  Not one little bit.  I remained silent and listened though.  "You are my new pet."

            "Pet?" I asked in total disbelief.  This can _not_ be happening.  It can't!  This is ridicules!  I am not someone's bloody _pet.  I never even had a pet of my own let alone be someone else's.  I stood quickly despite the fact that there was no where to go.  "I am not your bloody _pet_," I spat.  I didn't care if he got angry.  I was fed up.  I wanted out.  Now._

            "Oh, but you are," it cooed.  "My new and precious pet."  He strolled up to the cage like wall and grabbed onto them.  But they did not move out of his way or bend to his will.  Good.  So he couldn't come in.  Well that was a relief I suppose.  "My precious with the ever lovely red hair."  

            I stood there, bare foot and probably trembling like a leaf.  Though if it was from rage or fear I am not quite sure.  I don't really care.  All I cared was that apparently my family's trademark had made me be someone's _pet_.

            "Such lovely red hair," he continued, looking longingly at my overly long tresses.  

            Fuck.

~*~

            Snape and McGonagall had been a bit t-ed off when they arrived.  Ok, perhaps a bit more than t-ed.  More along the lines of pissed and enraged.  It wasn't pretty.  Not at all.  But I managed to get off fairly easy if you ask me.  Only a week of detention.  Nothing too big.  Though they have yet to inform me of what I will be doing.  At least I'm not going to be doing it with Weasley.  I think they're scared that we'll try another attempt at beating the crap out of each other if we're stuck together.  

            So after their little rant and that horrid woman who calls herself a matron had finished with me, I left.  I had an odd urge to go find Weasley.  The female version.  But I convinced myself that it wouldn't be good and that she probably need some time to herself.  I knew I would after all that shit.  And besides, it was getting rather late.  She was probably in her Common Room already or perhaps even in bed.  Hey, you never know.  Perhaps she has this thing with going to bed a touch early.  

            So I traveled down to my own Common Room.  There was barely anyone in there and I found myself plopping into an overstuffed chair.  My dorm room just seemed so final for some reason.  The chair let out a small whoosh of air as I sat but no one seemed to notice.  And so here I sit, thinking.  It's probably not the smartest thing to be doing, especially when my sanity is concerned.  Because I'll give you three guess as to which person instantly jumped to my thoughts as my butt settled itself into that chair.

            Weasley.

            And she won't leave.  I just keep seeing her face.  That damned face as she yelled at her brother.  As she stood there and silently cried at his harsh words.  Her sympathetic face when she looked at me after the fight.  Gah.  I shook my head violently in an attempt to get her image out, regardless of the looks I received.  My house probably thinks I'm nutters already, what's a few more incidents anyway?

            I was slightly surprised that word of the fight had gone around the school by the time I had made it back here.  I was sent a few dirty looks from other houses.  (Which I simply sneered back at)  And then there were a few Slytherins who had congratulated me.  One even had the nerve to welcome me back into Slytherin.  I had promptely snarled the question of where exactly I was returning from and sent him scurrying along in quite a hurry.  It's not like I have been that out of character lately.  Ok.  Maybe I have been.  But it's all _her fault.  I just can't get her out of my __head.  See?  Right back to _her_. _

            An idle thought passed through my mind and I turned and whacked my head against the armrest of the chair.  Nothing.  So I did it again.  And again.  And again.  It made a satisfying thunk every time it hit.  But after several attempts nothing extraordinary had happened.  Well except if you consider a pulsing headache something extraordinary.  It seemed my new and master plan to beat the red head out of my own head was a failure.  I don't know how I ever thought inflicting pain to my head would _ever really help.  Sorry head. _

            Looking around the room I noticed people staring.  "What?" I demanded as nastily as I could.  Even I was surprised at how harsh it had come out.  All present, all in the younger years, turned away quickly.  A few even left.  My satisfaction was short lived however when another wave of pain over came my head.

            And with this pain she returned.  What's with her?  Can't she just leave me alone?  It's not like I am in her mind every minute of every day.  Merlin I _hope I am not in her head every minute of every day.  That would just be wrong.  Very wrong.  It's bad enough that she is in my head.  It's not normal to be thinking about a Weasley this much.  Even if she is a girl Weasley.  But then, I did tell her that what she was didn't matter.  And I didn't lie.  So then why do I keep trying to force myself to believe it lately?  She obviously took what I had said to heart, but why am I resisting?  I hadn't actually meant to say it, but I did.  I know I can't take it back._

            But look where it's all gotten me.  People are beginning to doubt that I am still the cold blooded and evil Draco Malfoy.  I'm just waiting for the day my father owls me about the "most dreadful rumors" he's heard.  I also get the crap kicked out of me by her brother, who I might add, is larger than is normal for a human.  As well, I have the girl declare me I as her friend.  _And_ she is now permanently on my mind.  

            Oh bloody hell.  I should just face it already!  Face the terrible and horrible reality of it.  But it's just so wrong!  There is no way in hell that I will allow it to be true.  Yet I have this sinking feeling that it is.  I'm obsessed with Ginny Weasley.  I have _feelings for Ginny Weasley.  Feelings I wasn't even sure I was capable of feeling until now._

            I promptly turned and whacked my head a few more times.  

            This can not be happening.  It can't.  It just can't.  But it made sense I suppose.  I attacked her brother for her.  There is no way I can blame it on my own need to defend my ego.  Well maybe that was in there too but it was too small an amount.  I had Christmas dinner with her.  I wanted to _kiss her.  And the scary part is: I think I still do.  _

            Where did I go wrong?  Maybe I should have stuck to my father's plans for me.  Being a Death Eater must be so much easier than living this fucked up life.  I can't believe I just thought that.

            I stood up suddenly and went to my dorm and got ready for bed.

            I didn't sleep well.  Not well at all.  I couldn't get to sleep in the first place.  It seemed Crabbe and Goyle were louder than ever last night.  Like bloody foghorns they were, bouncing back and forth.  And when I wasn't listening to their terrible orchestra, I was thinking about her and how I shouldn't be thinking about her, which ultimately led me to think about her even more.  And when I finally did fall asleep I had the most terrible dream.  It was about this guy and an elf and there was this tree.  And the tree killed them.  After that I couldn't sleep any more.  Not that it mattered.  It was time to get up any way.

            Breakfast was dull and the food was nothing special.  Few people talked, it is Monday after all.  No one ever really has energy on Monday.  Save Dumbledore.  He's always a bundle of energy no matter the time of day.  Loopy old man.  

            It wasn't until Potions that things got a touch interesting: Weasley wasn't there.  And Snape glared at me the entire class as though I would and should know.  At first I assumed that she was simply late, but as the seconds then minutes and hour passed by on the clock I began to realize that she wasn't going to show up.  

            I felt something in my chest that was a feeling that I had become quite friendly with over my time at Hogwarts: disappointment.  It was rather startling.  I mean, I felt disappointed that a Weasley wasn't in class, sitting beside me, doodling up her usual storm, tossing her hair and being-  Ok.  See what I mean?  Obsessed!  It's just so wrong!  

            So I shoved my disappointment down, and continued on with the lesson.  The girl must have slept in or something.  No big deal.  She had not shown up that one time that she had been sick near the beginning of the year and it wasn't like I was all thinky then.  She did seem rather upset when she left, perhaps it just carried on.  And with this thought I moved to my next class, though I found myself searching the students in the crowd for a spot of red.

            I did this all day too.  I looked around for her in the halls and listened to conversations to see if anyone was talking about her.  I heard a few other interesting tidbits but nothing concerning her.  I am beginning to think that perhaps I could become some sort of spy though.  I did do some pretty wicked ease dropping if I do say so myself.  

            But that's all beside the point really.  The real point is that I never saw head nor tail of her.  Nor did I hear anything.  It was almost as if no one cared.  Or that she didn't exist to begin with and I had been imagining her all year.  Now the latter I knew was impossible or I would have to be completely out of my mind and the former is just preposterous.  How could you not care about her?  She's the kind of person you can't help but care for.  I have got to stop thinking like this!  I don't even sound like Draco anymore, let alone a Malfoy!  

            After lunch I began to really worry though.  She wasn't there.  I know she hasn't been eating much lately, but to miss a meal entirely?  It just didn't happen.  I was beginning to get the feeling that something just might be wrong.  And there was this pressure on my heart, something like a constant ache of a tooth that seemed to agree with this feeling.  It's really starting to bother me that I do have a heart.  Oh sure I knew I _had one.  I just never knew it worked properly.  I thought it was broken after years of it being shot down and my keeping its existence well hidden from others but me. _

            I finally decided to ask one of her friends in between my next class if they had seen her.  But there was a bit of a problem with that plan: I didn't really have any idea _who_ the girl's friends were.  Well save the Dream Team of course.  And after startling the crap out of several sixth years I decided this plan was not a smart one.  So I came up with a better one: I would wait until supper and if I still had not heard or seen anything, I would take action.  But what kind of action could I really take?  I ignored that question.  I would find some action, even if I had to run about the school in my boxers.  Though what good that would do Weasley I'm not quite sure...

            By the time I was released from my afternoon classes I still had not seen any sign of red.  Well, that's not entirely true.  I did see her brother on the way to the Great Hall for dinner with his arm draped over Granger.  I ignored them and they I.

            I sat down at my table, avoiding most of the people I knew, sticking to the end where I had a view of the Gryffindor table.  I looked over it casually, sweeping my eyes all along it.  Yet she wasn't there.  The feeling in my heart spiked.  The fact that I had been pushing aside all day finally began to push back.  

            Something was wrong.  

            I sat there for a moment, stunned.  What now?  Where could she have gone?  She couldn't be in the Hospital Wing, could she?  Was she still in bed?  Why weren't the teachers caring?  Where was she?

            There was panic in me now.  I haven't felt panic in such a long time.  If I would have stopped to think about it I'm sure I would have been appalled.  I hurried out the hall, not quite sure what I was going to do.  I had no idea where she even was and here I was trying to track her down.  I had the sudden idea to check trees, the memory of my dream returning to my mind with added urgency.  Was that what that had been all about?  Some message?  

            I hurried off in the direction of the Main Doors, when someone caught my eye, turning down one of the main halls.  One of Weasley's friends.  I knew it was one of them.  He had been the one she had stood with before Christmas dinner.  I hurried after him, struggling to seem as though I simply had somewhere important to go rather than reveal the panic that was steadily rising within me.

            "Hey," I called as the boy ahead of me came once again into view.  It was definitely him.  The hair gave him away.  Yet he continued on as though he hadn't heard me.  What was his name again?  I know he used to have a camera...  Guess that will have to do.  "Hey!  Camera boy!  Hold on a moment."

            The curly haired boy stopped and turned around, facing me with a frown.  "What do you want, Malfoy?" he demanded.  "I don't have time for your antics."

            "It won't take too long," I drawled, walking quickly to stop in front of him.  I never realized how short the guy was.  It was almost comical.  I guess that explains the big hair.  Compensation.  "I just want to know if you've seen Weas-Ginny today."

            A surprised look flashed across the younger boy's face, then a mask of suspicion fell over it.  He looked at me with a frown, seeming to try and bore through my head.  It was as if he was trying to see if I had something evil and Slytherin-like planned for her.  I tried not to glare back.  That wouldn't do me any good.  It was surprisingly easy.  I just kept her in mind.

            "Well?" I asked impatiently, crossing my arms and pulling myself up to my full height.  He didn't seem to notice.

            "I haven't seen her," he said finally, the suspicion falling away.

            "What do you mean you haven't seen her?" I demanded, the feeling in my stomach spiking worse than ever.  "Where could she be?"

            "I don't know," the boy said, worry making itself present on his face now.  This guy's like a book.  He's so easy to read it's rather scary.  I'll have to remember that.  "She wasn't there this morning when we usually walk together.  I thought she was sick, but it seems like no one has seen her."

            Well, if he hadn't seen her then she definitely wasn't around and there was definitely something wrong.  But now the question was apparently what was wrong?  Did she fall off a tower turret or perhaps did she jump?  She doesn't seem that unstable, and I would usually laugh at such a thought, but come to think about it, she left in a bit of a state.  Why didn't I go after her?

            I turned my attention to the short, curly haired Gryffindor, opening my mouth to respond.  Never got the chance though.

            "No Hermione," a voice said firmly from the direction of the Entrance Hall.  It sounded like Potter's.  And it wasn't too happy.  Quite the contrary really, he sounded absolutely livid.  "I'm sick of this.  Either tell me what's really going on or just leave me alone."  There was a slight pause.  "And don't give me any of this bull shit that there is nothing wrong.  I know there is."

            "But there isn't Harry," another voice rang through to me.  Granger.  There was another pause.  I assumed that the wonderful Boy Who Lived was glaring.  A terrifying experience I'm sure.  "Harry, I only want what's best for you.  _We_ only want what's best for you."

            "Like hell you do," Potter snarled.  Their voices were getting louder.  Camera Boy and I turned to face the entrance to the hall we were in to see the Dream Team come round the corner.  They began walking towards us, seeming not to notice us.  But how could they not?  Two blonds, I say that's quite a sight.  Ok, I'll shut up.

            "Ever since you broke up with me and started going out with _him_," he pointed at Weasley's older brother.  "I've noticed a change.  You don't want to be around me anymore.  You don't want anything to do with me anymore!  And don't give me that look, both of you.  She snaps and starts fights over the simplest things just to scare me off.  She tries to make me feel guilty for being around the two of you.  What kind of friend is that?!"  His voice was considerably louder now as they approached.  "What is it you want me to do?  Disappear?!  Cause if that's what you really want I will gladly take my-"

            "Ehem," I said simply, rather sick of the black haired boy's raving voice.  It really is irritating, like a jarvey with a bad head cold.  Not pleasant I tell you.  "I would hate to interrupt this touching moment," I said as pleasantly as I could.  In other words I sneered as harshly as I could.  All three of them turned and glared at me.  Apparently their malice could be shared with others beside the three of them.  "But-"

            "What do you want, Malfoy," Weasley spat before I could continue.  Stupid git.  

            I stared at him.  There are a lot of things I want, now that I come to think of it.  Weasley's head on a stick.  Potter's head on a stick.  Granger's head on a stick. My father's head on a stick.  What is it with me and sticks?  

            Pushing my sudden fascination with sticks aside I replied: "I want to know where your sister is, Weasley."

            "I thought I told you to stay away from her," he snarled, taking a step towards me, leaving the shelter of the other two who simply stood back, watching the proceedings.  Didn't they usually hold the brute back?

            "You also told me that if I hurt her that you would kill me," I drawled.  I knew I should have kept my mouth shut but I just couldn't help it.  It was too easy.  "I interpreted that as a cancellation of your first warning."  Weasley looked about ready to strike.  "Not that it matters," I added quickly.  "She is apparently no longer around."

            "What?" Weasley demanded, stopping quite suddenly in his approach.  "What do you mean?"

            They didn't notice.  How quaint.  It actually made me quite angry, to tell you the truth.  Now I was worried and angry, but I tried my hardest not to show it.  "She hasn't been to any of her classes today," I said, trying to keep my voice as even as possible.  I think it went alright, but Ganger frowned at me.  I ignored her and continued: "And I am beginning to doubt that she was in your Common Room last night either.  Or didn't you three notice?  Didn't you care?"  

            One would expect the accused at this point to look rather guilty or at least look a little distressed.  But they didn't.  Actually they glared at me as if it were my fault entirely.  I am really starting to think that the three of them are more screwed than I first gave them credit for.  And that is really rather sad because I never really thought very high of them in the first place.  

            "Are you trying to implying that I don't care about my sister?" Weasley suddenly growled, the shock of my news seeming to have washed from his mind.  It must be nice to have such a simple mind.

            "I'm not trying to implying anything," I said simply.  "I am just saying that your sister is missing.  But then after that display of yours last night, how can you expect anything different?"

            "Why you-" Weasley began and seemed ready to strike.  Potter and Granger lathched onto him in an instant though.  Guess they still do that after all.  Wouldn't want to give the red head another detention, now would they?

            "Ron," Potter warned, then turned his four eyes to me.  "Are you telling the truth Malfoy?" he demanded.

            "No Potter," I sneered, suddenly not really caring if I didn't sound as I should.  Drawling just seemed so out of place.  "I'm just making up some stupid story to send you in the wrong direction so I can sneak into your dorm room, steal all your underwear and create some sort of shrine."  Potter looked rather startled.  "What do you think?"

            "Where is she then?" Granger asked, a worried expression coming to rest on her face.  I wonder if it's real or if she is just pretending to care.  I personally don't care what the answer was.

            "Why would I be asking you if I knew?" I spat.  "Or do you think that I'm behind it to begin with?"

            "I'd think that," Weasley growled, pulling against the two holding him back.  He moved them a few inches.  I stood my ground.

            "Of course you would," I growled.  "I just spent the last year talking to your sister so I could steal her away from you.  How convenient that it should happen after you showed her the monster you really are."  I paused, frowning at them.  "With _friends_ like you three, it's no wonder she went off to find a person like me to replace you.  Even a supposed Death Eater is better than the Dream Team."  With that I stormed past them heading for the main doors. 

            "So you admit that you're a Death Eater then?" Weasley screamed after me.  I turned and gave him the finger, ignoring the look of shock on Granger's face.  It's not like she's Miss Perfect to begin with.

            I turned the corner and was out of range of their death glares.  I really don't know why I said what I said, but honestly it felt a little good.  To say out loud that I wasn't a Death Eater.  Even if I said I really was with my voice dripping with sarcasm.  

            I had just reached the main doors, when I heard feet running behind me.  I turned, expecting to see the trio brandishing wands.  Instead I saw Weasley's short friend, frowning at me.

            "What do you want?" I growled, glaring down on him.

            "I'm going to help you find Ginny," he said, coming to a stop in front of me.

            "Really?" I drawled, glancing at the door, feeling that if only I could get to it, I could escape all the idiots of his place and find Ginny.  Oh great.  Now I'm calling her "Ginny".  Happy day.  Goodbye sanity.

            I glared at her friend, opening my mouth to say something nasty that would scare the git off.  But all the nasty and bitter words that had been resting on the tip of my tongue seemed to refuse to be released.  So I said the only thing I really could: "Fine."

            I then turned and stormed out of the castle, making towards the tree where I had first seen her hang from so many moths ago.  Yet as I walked swiftly towards it, resisting the urge to run, ignoring Wealsey's friend, I began to think.  But it wasn't the usual thinking about Weasley, which would have been totally warranted granted the situation, instead I was thinking about the Dream Team.  And not in a plotting conniving Slytherin way, but in a way of simple disgust.  How could three friends be torn apart so easily?  As a person who has never really had any friends it's rather disgusting that they could throw away something so precious over such a petty thing.  I've always envied Potter and his little group of followers.  I can admit that now.  And it makes my blood boil to see them throw something I could never have away.  

            And they were hurting other people in the process.  Like Weasley for example.  If she's hurt, I will personally kill all three of them.  I don't care if I _do_ end up in Azkaban before my father for it would be worth it.  They would deserve it.  For using others, for using her, in their little game.

            "Where are we going?" Camera Boy's voice suddenly sliced through my rather angry thoughts.  I turned about and glared at him.  The little sixth year didn't flinch.  Flinch damn you, flinch.

            "There," I said angrily, giving up on my seemingly futile pursuit.  He followed my finger to the quickly approaching tree.  The tree.  

            "A tree?" he asked rather daftly.  I held my tongue from saying something like "yes, a _tree_".  As if that answer would help put his simple Gryffindor mind at ease.  I honestly don't see what Weasley sees in this guy.  He's like a stick.  Or something equally as stupid.

            Finding nothing better to say that would sound reasonably intelligent, I remind silent and jogged the rest of the way to my destination.  There was no one there.  I felt my heart sink further.  She wasn't here.  She was no where around here.  I began to look around the tree, becoming more and more frantic in my search.  I honestly don't know what I was expecting to find.  Her sitting there, laughing at me from one of the elevated branches.  Calling me a fool for worrying like a ninny and then leap down into my arms?  I don't know where that last bit came from.  

            I continued to glare up at the tree.  You stupid thing.  You stupid, retarded thing.  Why didn't you protect her?  Why didn't you keep her here?!  Ok, Draco.  You've lost it.  You're talking to trees in your head.  

            "Isn't that Ginny's cloak?" Camera Boy suddenly asked from the other side of the oversized plant.  I peered round it and looked to where he was pointing.  Sure enough, there was her cloak, hanging in the place where it had hung last time.  Why didn't I look there in the first place?  You stupid git.  "Why's her cloak in a tree?"

            "It's a long story," I said absently, looking at the hanging garment.  It seemed so alone.  But that's ridicules.  How can a cloak look lonely?  

            I forced my eyes away from it and began to search the ground, walking around the tree as I went.  Then I saw something.

            "Hey Camera Boy!" I called from the opposite end of the tree.  He came around with a scowl on his face, clutching Weasley's cloak to him.

            "My name's Colin," he growled, glaring.

            "Yeah, whatever," I said dismissively.  "I think that she fell."  I pointed to a depression in the earth that seemed about the right size of Weasley's ass.  Not that I ever stare at it.  That would be wrong.  Malfoy's don't look at Weasley's asses.  Mule or otherwise.

            "And then something took her away," the self-called Colin added, nodding to the area beside the ass-print where large foot prints were impressed about the base of the tree.  "Into the forest," he concluded.

            I followed the path with my eyes, seeing that indeed the prints lead into the dark forest.  The forest with all those terrible creatures in it.  With the werewolves.  

            I bit back my fear of those damned things and walked towards it.  If I want Weasley back then no wolf or werewolf or giant spider is going to stop me.  A moment later I sensed Colin walking behind me.  I glanced back to see the determined look on his face and his wand in his hand.  I dug about in my cloak for my own wand and pulled it out.  At least I wasn't going to be alone.

            "Lumos."

~*~

A/N: Well there you have it.  A kidnapping!  Bwa ha ha ha!  And hopefully there will be a rescue.  ~nods~  Unless I become evil and decide that I want to end things soon.  It would be so easy to just cut out a few characters if you catch my drift... 

Many thanks to: **Lallie**(Sorry about the lack of happiness my dear. But it was exam time. You weren't that happy either. So there)**, Cactuskitty(I think I might have to go book shopping soon. I think I will read it when I get the chance. :p )**, Lady Laughs-A-Lot**(Maybe, maybe not...)**, tulzdavampslayer**(I don't care if you swear but I think They might ~looks worriedly at Them~)**, Isadora**(Yeah, sometimes you just have to let it all out. It's amazing how good you feel afterwards)**, SteelAzalea**(I don't usually deal in "big fluffy romance" scenes, but I'll see what I can do)****, Gusha(I suppose it did)****, Writing*-*Wonder(Yes, not hurting Q is good. Very good)**, TorQ**(~thinks about plot~ Yeah, I am too)**, hpfan90**(You know, hurting the computer will do you no good. ~grin~)****, yourgrandmother(Actually, it's my Oma. But thanks so much for what you said. Meant a lot)**, BlinkSki182(**Wow. Thanks so much!)**, charredrose**(Perhaps it could be. ~shrug~)**, Amber(**Well, seeing as you said please. :D)**, dracoscutie**(Did it flow? I haven't read it through in an age)****, oliverwoodsgirl(Snape can do wonders, except when he makes you burst out laughing during class)****, peaceoutgrlmehi(First, let me say I am terribly sorry about your dad. But you are not a bad person. The simple fact that you feel guilty for things out of your control proves otherwise. And don't worry about it, I'm glad to be an ear. Oh, and if you and your group try anything, I have 6 yr old boxes of unsold Girl Guide cookies, and I know how to use them. ~glares~)****, Cay(No, no Azkaban for Roinnikins... yet)****, kneh13(Yeah, but you got to love it here, mad cows and all.)****, Jacaranda, and**** Rockelle(Like the new name ~grin~)**


	11. Here He Comes to Save the Day

Title: The Truth About Trees

Author: Tiny Q

E-Mail: one_legged_lesbian_seagull@hotmail.com

A/N: Ha!  I am done!  I am done!  I am done!  Yes, Ladies and Gentlemen!  I have finally finished the story!  ~dances happily~  Not that this is the Last chapter mind you.  Nope.  You have 5 more "wondrous" chapters to look forward to.  Lucky you.  Ooooh, what I wrote.  ~evil grin~  I know you are going to kill me by the end.  But that's alright.  Then I won't have to do my readings anymore.  Bah.  I'm not too happy with the end of this chapter though, for obvious reasons.  (You'll get what I mean when you get there).  But there would be too much of a gap if I left it out.  If it bothers you a lot complain and I will fix it.  Anyways, please enjoy the good parts of the end of one of Ginny's little issues.  Extra long for your reading enjoyment.  Soon to come: the completion of Draco's.

Disclaimer: I own nothing!!  Only the plot.  And Joe.  Who, by the way, has nothing to do with Ents, though I love them dearly.  Especially Treebeard.  :D

**The Truth About Trees ******

**Chapter 11**

**Here He Comes to Save the Day**

~*~

            I half awoke to the feeling of someone smoothing my hair.  It felt quite nice actually, and I just lay there, resisting the urge to wake up entirely.  I don't remember this happening to me in such a long time.  Not since I was a little girl and my mum would do this when I lay on the couch beside her.  Yet my mind, despite all the comforting memories that came to it, seemed set on fighting.  It began to think.  It kept telling me that something was wrong.  That I wasn't supposed to be asleep.  That I was supposed to have stayed up and not sleep.  Stayed up incase...

            My eyes snapped open and I stared straight up at what should have been the ceiling.  Instead, however, there was a pair of golden eyes set in a green fleshed face staring down on me in a seemingly impassive way.  Can Tree Daemons even be impassive?  

            After a moment in which we both sat there and stared at each other, I set my mouth into a frown and scrambled away.

            "Don't touch me," I hissed, glaring at him and pulling my extended hair out of his grasp.  He had been holding onto it in what seemed to be mild amusement.  Well it was fully exposed amusement I suppose.  I moved as far away as I could and the stupid thing could still reach my hair.

            "Ah," he cooed, his face crinkling in a way that was most likely supposed to be pleasant.  But it wasn't.  "You're awake."  He stared at me for a moment, seeming to consider something.  Then he stood up and walked in his odd way towards the barrier that I now had my back pressed against.  He walked right through it!  I let out a yelp of surprise.  

            He could get in.

            But I suppose it would be stupid if he couldn't get in.  Why would you cage a pet but not be able to get access to it?  It's not like you can have a pet that you can only see and not touch.  Well, I suppose you can't really touch fish.  Or a poisonous spider.  Or something really dangerous with lots of teeth.  Oh, I wish I had lots of teeth.  Then maybe he wouldn't come in here and try to pet me.

            I looked over at him.  He was prowling about my cage, watching me.  I spotted what appeared to be a walking stick leaning against the wall behind him.  I suddenly wished I had it in my hand so that I could shove through the bars and poke him in the eye.  It would be rather fun.  Well except if he gets angry.  But until then it would be fun.  

            "I am beginning to think you are a better pet when you are asleep," Joe suddenly spoke, slightly startling me while I was still contemplating getting my hand on the stick.  I saw him move towards me and I scrambled to the center of the bed, minding that I brought my hair with me.

            I stared at him a moment.  Was he suggesting that he was going to put me to sleep?  Like sleeping bloody beauty?  How am I supposed to try and escape if I'm asleep?  And I know you are probably thinking that there is no escape.  That there are bars all around me.  But you're wrong.  I can still try and dig my way through the mattress or try and climb the bars.  Hey, you never know!  I'm desperate, alright?!

            "What's the fun in a pet that doesn't do anything?" I tried to ask innocently, but I think there was a touch too much sarcasm in my voice.  "Pets are supposed to entertain you."  An image of a sleazy dancer suddenly popped into my mind.  Oh Ginny you fool, why did you just say that to him?

            "When you are asleep you are entertaining," Joe said softly, stopping by the bars and moving his head closer to them.  "When you breathe you make the most wonderful little sounds.  It's like music to my ears.  And I can pet you without you fighting me."  He paused.  "Yes, I do think that sleep time is much better than awake time."

            "Is that why you hurt those two other students?" I suddenly asked before I could stop myself.  "Because they wouldn't stay asleep for you?"  

            He backed away from the bars as if he had been hurt.  My eyes widened.  Please tell me he doesn't have a temper.  Or better yet, turn into a monster when he was angry.  Wasn't there some old Muggle thing where when the guy got angry he turned green?  Well, I suppose Joe was already green.  What if he turned pink?  That's not very scary.

            "No," Joe said darkly, bowing his head and glaring at me from under his filthy hair.  "They would sleep."

            I glared at him.  "So what was the problem then?"  

            "I didn't want them anymore," he replied simply then looked up and grinned at me.  "I saw something better.  Something more lovely."  I raised an eyebrow.  "You," he said simply.  "You in that tree.  And after that no other pet would suffice."  

            I felt myself backing up once more.  He had been watching me almost the whole year?  He had been _stalking me?  Was _he_ what Malfoy had come out to protect me from?  Was Joe what he had seen in the forest?  Why didn't he tell me?_

            Yet I couldn't' find any hate for Malfoy and his neglecting to tell me about something he had seen.  Actually, I rather missed him.  Well, rather is a very large understatement really.  It was more like an ache in my heart.  This desperate feeling that if he was just here beside me there would be no problem.  Joe wouldn't dare try to hurt me with Malfoy around.  He hadn't before, he wouldn't again.

            But this feeling raises better questions than why I needed to be put into a permanent state of sleep: Why was I longing for Malfoy to be here?  Why not someone else?  Why not Sara or Harry or Colin?  Why Malfoy?  It's not like he's the best of company.  Ok, so he knows more about my recent life than any of the others.  And he seems to always be around when I really need him.  Well I suppose not always.  He's not here right now.  So maybe that was it.  I was just so used to having him around when I needed him that my heart is just waiting and longing for him to arrive.  But why would my heart long for Malfoy?  

            "But you are resistant," Joe suddenly began to speak again.  "You do not want to be my pet."  I looked at him.  Would he let me go?  Yeah right.  "But I will not let you go.  Ever."  Told ya.  

            "It won't happen," I suddenly sneered.  "Dumbledore won't have it.  As soon as they figure out where I've gone to he'll come in here and get me.  He won't leave me here to be your pet."  

            I had never actually thought of that, but I don't know why not.  Dumbledore wouldn't let me stay here.  There was no way.  I would be rescued as soon as they figured out I was gone.  Then all would be good.

            "Dumbledore has no power over me," Joe sneered.  I looked at him, thinking he was just saying things to wipe the hope from me, but he looked dead serious.  Was he telling the truth?  Did Dumbledore, defeater of Grindelwald, the only one You-Know-Who was scared of, have no power over this stupid living tree?  The tree thing definitely seemed to think so.

            "You're lying," I hissed. 

            "Believe what you will," Joe said in a suddenly cheery voice.  "But I suppose it won't really matter what you believe, will it?"  I looked at him curiously.  What was he going on about now?  "You're going to be asleep anyway."  Oh.  That.

            He walked towards the bed like a tree with a mission. Then he passed right through the bars and strode across the bed towards me.  My back hit those same bars.  I had no where to go.  He knelt down in front of me, suddenly looking very serious.  

            I couldn't move.  I don't know why, but I just couldn't.  And the worst part was that in my head I began to scream his name.  No not Joe's, _his.  Draco's.  His actual name.  Not just Malfoy as normal.  If it would have been aloud then it would have been on the top of my lungs.  Yet I remained deathly silent.  Like some stupid animal about to die. _

            Joe grinned at me, seeming to be able to hear the desperate shouts inside my head.  Yet he said nothing about it.  Instead he raised his slim hand and waved it in front of my face, in an exaggerated swirl.  "Sleep," he said slowly.  

            All I could do was think Draco's name one last time before everything went black.

~*~

            Camera Boy and I walked through the Forbidden Forest for what seemed like hours following those footprints.  I kept getting spooked at the shadows, thinking that they could be werewolves.  You're probably wondering why I'm so scared.  Well it involves getting lost, a forest, a pack of wolves and I'm not telling.  But despite my skiterishness, I kept a brave face.  Wouldn't want to seem like a scardey cat or anything equally as pathetic.

            But what was starting to make me even more nervous than the prospective werewolf attacks was the fact that there _were_ footprints.  I mean what kind of kidnapper leaves a trail for people to follow?  It's the stupidest thing I've ever heard.  Well, maybe it wasn't but it was definitely in the top ten.  But the nervous factor was coming from the idea that perhaps this thing wanted to be found.  Yet as to why was beyond me.

            So the two of us walked in silence, side-by-side until the trail was too narrow and then I led.  Then the prints went right off the trail and into the trees.  It didn't take much thought to go off the trail and follow them.  If we wanted to get Weasley back then we would simply have to.  

            For some reason the dream I had had last night wormed its way into my mind.  It really was a disturbing dream now that I think about it, but I don't really know why I would think about it while trudging through the forest in search of Weasley.  I suppose it could be that my mind made a connection between myself and the human and Weasley and the elf.  But that would mean that I would fail, that I would never find her and be killed by a tree.  But what a stupid thought, eh?  Being killed by a tree?  Like that could ever happen.  Unless you fall out of one I suppose.  

            The fact that the trail was becoming more difficult to walk on drew me away from the dream, however.  It was no longer as simple as walking on that nice little path.  I don't think I will ever insult trails again.  Ever.  Those stupid trees kept catching at my clothes and they were a bitch to try and dislodge.  We eventually made it though, even if I had about fifty scratches more than I had started with.  

            But here we are now: right in front of a cave entrance where the prints lead into.  And out of as well.  Actually, it seemed that this thing was rather heavy because there were prints all over the place.  Now if I had been trained in the art of tracking, I would have been able to tell how fresh they were, but alas I wasn't.  I don't think my father ever liked the idea of me learning to hunt, even though he is a rather good one himself.  Actually, that could have disturbing possibilities, couldn't it?

            "So, what do we do now?" Camera Boy asked, clutching his wand.  We had had to nox them.  But who wouldn't really?  It's like a bloody sign: here we are to save the day!  Wouldn't want the owner of the footprints to become aware of us before we can save Weasley.

            "What do you think?" I sneered, not looking at him.  "We go in."

            "But what if that thing's in there?" he hissed back.  I turned to look at him.  He didn't seem scared, but simply irritated.

            "Then let's hope it doesn't like the taste of human flesh," I snarled.  

            Holding up my wand, I walked towards the entrance.  Screw that kid.  If he doesn't want to save Weasley then he can stay right there and wait for us.  A second later, however, I heard his footfalls behind me.  A glance confirmed his presence.  

            The cave was dark and it was silent.  Deathly silent.  I tried to walk as quietly as possible, and by the lack of sound from behind me it seemed Camera Boy was doing the same.  Yet the further we walked into the blinding darkness, slowly mind you, it started to get brighter.  At first I thought it was I was just imagining it, that I wanted to see the light.  But after a few minutes, we cautiously rounded a corner and came into a dimly lit chamber.  There was nothing in it except several burning torches, held in bras anchored to the stone walls.  Straight across from us there were three cave mouths, smaller than the first we had walked through.

            "Which one?" Camera Boy whispered.  I shrugged.  

            "Let's try the right one," I whispered back.  

            Without waiting for a reply I walked towards it, still moving as quietly as I could.  It actually wasn't that hard.  I had, after all, taken up spying as a child.  Not that my parents are very good targets.  But there were sometimes interesting guests about the manor as I have mentioned before. 

            This entrance led into a smaller tunnel than the one we had been through previous.  Yet this one descended downwards.  But unlike the other one, it was higher and well lit by torches about a foot or two above my head.  This tunnel also seemed a touch louder than the first one.  This one dripped and made other odd cave like noises.  Yet as to why this one would be noisier than the other was beyond me.  You would think that one would want their residence as silent as possible.  But what do I care?  All I care about is getting Weasley and getting out of here.

            There was a bend in cave as we continued to descend and I slowed down to a stop.  "Do you hear that?" I asked in a whisper, straining my ears.  

            "Hear what?" the short boy behind me hissed back, looking about.

            "It sounds like breathing," I replied, also looking around.  It was slow, rhythmic breathing.  The kind that belongs to a sleeping person.  Though as to why my ears would pick up on it is beyond me.  

            "Do you think it's what ever stole Ginny?" he asked, a touch of excitement in his voice.  Or it could have been fear.  

            "Only one way to find out," I whispered back.

            Leaning against the wall, I poked my head around the bend.  Quickly looking about, I pulled it back.  Camera Boy was looking at me expectantly.

            "There's another opening that seems to lead into some sort of chamber," I addressed his quizzical look.  "It seems to be well lit and I am assuming that is where what ever is breathing is."

            Camera Boy nodded.  "So, what are we waiting for then?" he asked.

            With a shrug, I pulled away from the wall and walked slowly towards the entrance.  

            The breathing got louder as we approached but as I passed through the threshold, the sound dropped away.  It was rather odd to tell the truth.  We both stopped and looked around.

            Sure enough the chamber was very well lit.  There were candles everywhere, filling the average sized cave with a warm and would be cheerful light.  There were random pieces of furniture scattered about, and they all seemed a little off.  As though they had been made by someone who didn't require the use of a chair in the same way we did.  Or a table for that matter.

             Yet the only real object of interest in the room was a large, rather oversized bed placed in the center of the room, pushed up against the wall.  It was the largest and most elaborate piece of furniture in the chamber.  But I think the main attention grabber about the bed itself was the fact that there was someone on it.

            I stared.  It was a woman.  The most beautiful woman I have ever seen.  She lay on the bed as though she had been tossed there like a discarded rag doll, but regardless, there was this aura of beauty about her.  Long red hair was laying on her like a blanket, covering the white nightgown she was wearing.  I was beginning to feel that I could just stand there all day and stare at her.  Stare at her regal beauty, ever wondering why she was lying like that.  Why someone would want to toss her away like that.  Why-

            "Ginny?" Camera Boy croaked from behind me.  I whipped my head around and glared.  There was no way that that woman could be Weasley.  Her hair was too long.  She looked far too elegant, too aristocratic.  

            He ignored me though and I had no choice but to turn back around and stare at the lovely creature.  Yet she didn't look quite the same anymore.  It was as if the candles had shifted, casting a different light about her.  She seemed more human now, more failure.  I continued to stare.  

            Merlin, it was Weasley.

            "What have they done to her?" Camera Boy whispered urgently, striding quickly over to the bed.  He tried to reach out a hand, but it stopped short as though there was some invisible wall about it.  He seemed to stand there for a moment then turned to me.  "There're bars around the bed," he said quietly.

            But I couldn't move, let alone worry about invisible bars.  How could I have possibly thought that Weasley was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen?  She was Weasley for bloody Merlin's sake!  Bizarre and bitter Weasley.  Weasley with her stupid hair and freckles.  Weasley, the only person who could make me laugh.  The only person who could make me brave werewolves to get to her.  Weasley.  Ginny.  What's wrong with me?

            "I don't see any," I said, shaking my head slightly.  Now was not the time to sit there and try to figure out what was going through my head.

            "Well there here," Camera Boy sneered.  

            I walked over to stand beside them and sure enough there were bars.  I didn't say anything though, just pulled on them a bit.  

            "Ok, so how do we get her out then?"  The bars didn't seem to want to move.

            "Maybe she would know a way out," the blonde beside me said, gesturing towards the sleeping Weasley.  

            "Weasley," I hissed.  "Wake up."  

            The red head shifted in her sleep, causing the long hair that was apparently sprouting from her head to fall into her face.  She sniffed slightly.  

            "Weasley," I said a touch louder.  "Wake up."  

            "Don't want to," she grumbled, her voice muffled by the hair that had fallen before her mouth.  

            "Come on," I hissed.  "We don't have time for this."

            "Don't care," she mumbled, and curled into a ball of some sort, turning her back to us.  Well, at least she can comprehend what I am saying.  Caring seems to be another issue however.

            "Fine," I snapped, looking about the chamber, ignoring Camera Boy's annoyed glare.  Then I spotted it.  A stick.  It was leaning against the wall and I was suddenly struck by an idea.  Striding over to it, I grabbed it and returned to my original spot.  "Wake up, Weasley.  Or you'll regret it."

            She didn't respond at all this time.

            Lifting the stick up, I carefully maneuvered it through the bars and aimed.

            "What are you doing?" the Gryffindor asked me in alarm.  

            "Waking her up," I replied simply.  Then I thrust the stick and poked the girl sharply in the back.  "Weasley, wake up," I said sharply.

            "Bloody hell!" she gasped, jerking away from the stick.  My heart leapt at the sound of her voice.  I have now decided that my heart is neurotic.  "All you had to do was ask!"  She sat up and whipped around to face us, a mask of rage covering her features.  The mask fell away the instant her eyes settled on me.  

            "Draco?" she whispered, her eyes going wide.  I felt my heart swell to a size I thought that I surely thought would make it burst.  Please tell me it wasn't because she said my name.  Stupid heart.  I was right.  I followed her eyes as she turned them on the shorter guy beside me.  "Colin?"  She stared for a moment then smiled.  "Have you come to save me?"

            "Of course," Camera Boy said smiling back.  

            She looked at me for a moment then the smile whipped off her face.  My heart shank back so quickly it hurt.  What was that?  Am I not worthy of a smile?  

            "We have to hurry," she said urgently.  I frowned.  Oh.  So now we have to hurry do we?  She can smile at Camera Boy but when it comes to me we simply have to hurry?  "Before he comes back.  I don't know what he'll do to you."

            "Who's he?" I demanded.

            "Joe," she said shortly, looking around.

            "Joe?" Camera Boy and I asked together.  I glared at him.  He glared back.

            "He's the one who caught me," she said, beginning to sound anxious.  "He's a Tree Daemon."

            "What's a Tree Daemon?" I asked, beginning to feel rather nervous as well.  It didn't sound like a very pleasant creature to deal with.  Especially after that dream.  Perhaps this Daemon was the personification of the tree.  Maybe I could die after all.  We all could.  

            "I don't know," she snapped.  "But he gives me the creeps."  She looked around.  "Now can you please just get me out of here?"  She looked at me with pleading eyes.  All the resentment that had built up over that denied smile vanished.  I am so whipped.  

            "We were hoping you would know how," the boy beside me said softly.  "How did this Joe thing get you in there?"

            "I don't know," she said almost desperately.  "But he can walk right through it."

            I felt my eyes go wide.  That thing had been in there with her?  I then felt anger rising in my chest, and I really didn't want to understand it.  

            I looked around now.  There wasn't anything around that seemed like it could be used to open the bars or even break them.  Then I remembered the stick in my hand.  I walked a few steps away from the caged girl and put the stick in between two bars and began to try and pry them apart.  Nothing happened.  Well except for the fact that the stick broke into two.

            "You can't force them open," Weasley said with a hint of exasperation.  "I kept trying that.  That's why he put me to sleep."

            "He put you to sleep?" I demanded, feeling my anger rise even more.  I was really starting to not like this Joe fellow.

            We all fell into silence.  I kept looking around, hoping to find something, anything, but nothing was found.  I feebly hit the bars with the stick.  It made a ping noise.

            "Colin," Weasley suddenly said and we both turned to face her.  "Why don't you transfigure the bars into something else?"  We both stared at her.  "I know you've been taking advanced lessons."  She frowned then.  "Even though you haven't told me about them."

            "Then how did you find out?" he asked, his face turning red.

            "Neville," she said simply.  Ah, the infamous gossip.  Even if he is a lot more outspoken than before I take it that some things just never change.

            "That's different, Gin," Camera Boy whispered after a bout of seemingly ashamed silence.  His tone of voice seeming almost too sad to tell her.  "I only work with smaller things.  Not huge cages."

            "Well just do one bar at a time then," she urged.  "I know you can do it."

            The Gryffindor stared at her then he turned to me, much to my surprise, then looked at the bars.  He reached out and tried to pull on one.  "Well I suppose that might work," he muttered.  "You should probably stand back then," he told Weasley, and she scurried back, grabbing all her hair and pulling it out of the way of her knees.  

            Camera Boy glared at the bars, the held up his wand.  "Vitruminous," he said in a commanding voice.  The bar he had been glaring at glowed blue then faded back to the same color.

            "Well, that was effective," I muttered.  

            Camera Boy ignored me, the raised his foot and kicked the bar with a sidekick.  

            The bar broke.

            "I knew you could do it," Weasley said happily, clasping her hands and moving over to the bars.  

            "What did you do?" I asked in slight awe.  How could that little thing have that much power?  That's not even something McGonagall would do so lightly.  

            "I turned it into glass," he said, motioning for Weasley to move back again.  The girl complied and he raised his wand once more.  He did his spell twice more then broke the bars in a similar fashion as he had done for the first.  Then he moved aside, so Weasley could make her way out.  

            She gingerly stood up and stared at the glass covering the bed.  Her feet were bare.  I muttered a spell of my own and the glass disappeared.  She grinned at me thankfully then carefully made her way out of the cage she had been in.

            "Thank you Colin," she said happily, giving the shorter Gryffindor a hug.

            "No problem," he said, patting her on the back.  I felt a pang of jealousy.  So he got broke the bars.  I got rid of the glass.  Then I told myself off.  So what if I didn't get a hug.  Like I would want to touch the likes of her.  I knew I was lying.

            "We should get out of here before this Joe fellow comes back," I said, interrupting their touching moment.  Ginny pulled away and nodded.  

            "How Slytherin of you," Camera Boy said, glaring at me.  Apparently he didn't like it when his hugs were interrupted.  "You sneak in then you sneak out."

            "Well I am one and that's what we do," I sneered at him.  "Unlike Gryffindors who go running around with wands and no plans, blasting everything in sight."

            Camera boy stuttered, but Weasley interrupted him.  "And what was this plan?" she asked, obviously trying to diffuse the situation.  Not that it needed to be.  That Gryffindor was no match for me.  Except if he transfigured me into a newt.  Oh I was sure I would get better, but still.  He might have the upper hand for a bit.

            "To get in here and find you," I said simply, grinning slightly.  It was a rather good plan if one thought about it.  Perhaps not one of my best, but defiantly not one of my worst.

            "That's it?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

            "He didn't have a plan," he hissed to Weasley.  "He just went running about, trying to find you."  He glared at me.  I gave him the finger.  

            "Whatever," Weasley said.  "Let's just get out of here before-"  
            "I get back?" a new voice asked to the right of us.  

            Weasley gasped, whipping her head around.  I turned to see who the owner of the voice was and had to repress a gasp of my own.  There was a bloody talking tree standing before us!  What the hell did Weasley get herself into?  But then I had to stifle another gasp.

            It had the same golden eyes as the ones I had seen in the forest.

~*~

            I couldn't help but feel the shock run through me.  What was Joe going to do to my saviors?  He couldn't hurt them, but what if he did?  What if he did the same thing he did to them as he did to the Hufflepuffs?  Or worse?  

            "I do so hope that you weren't planning on taking my new pet away from me," Joe said pleasantly, narrowing his eyes at Draco and Colin.  I guess he's Draco now.  But then after repeating his name in my head hundreds of times in my dream I think I couldn't call him anything but.  Goody.  

            "Pet?" the Slytherin demanded.  "I don't see any pets around here."

            "But she's right behind you," Joe said in an almost innocent voice.  "And what a wonderfully beautiful specimen she is."

            I saw Draco stiffen.

            "You're sick," Colin hissed, moving to the right slightly.  I noticed Draco edging left.  

            "No I'm not," Joe sneered, frowning slightly.  I felt my blood run cold.  Was he going to put us all to sleep?  Well I suppose the school would react faster if all three of us were missing.  "I just like pretty things."

            "Well, you obviously have poor taste in what is pretty," Draco sneered.  I glared at his back but resisted the urge to say something equally as harsh.  He was now standing in front of me.  Actually both of them were.  They were acting as shields.  How could I yell at them for that, even if Draco was being an ass?  "There's nothing pretty about a Weasley."

            "You shouldn't insult my pet like that," Joe hissed frowning even further.  "You might upset her."

            "Oh, Merlin forbid," the taller blonde sneered.  "Wouldn't want to unleash that temper of hers, now would we?"  

            Joe seemed to ignore this factor however, and wandered over towards the bed.  "And how did you manage to get her out of there," he mused, looking towards the three missing bars.  

            Draco and Colin moved with him, seeming to be a movable wall keeping themselves between the Daemon and myself.  I was actually quite touched not to mention surprised.  I don't think anyone's ever done anything like that before.  They began to back up slowly, moving us towards the cave entrance.  

            "We used magic," Colin sneered.  He held up his wand.  

            "Made out of wood of course," Joe said in a suddenly sad voice.  "You humans are so destructive, even if you are pretty."  

            "Yeah, well," Draco began, reaching his left hand behind himself and seemed to begin to search for something, grasping at the air.  I watched it with mild interest, until it latched onto my right hand.  Then I simply stared at it.  "We can be a hell of a lot more destructive if given the chance."  His wand arm flew up then and he pointed his wand at the ceiling.  "DELEROUS!" he bellowed.

            A jet of dark blue magic shot out his wand and collided with the ceiling.  Joe had just enough time to look up as the ceiling began to crash down around him.  He let out a high pitch scream that would have been rather humorous if not for the circumstances.

            "RUN!" Colin screamed, and I felt Draco pull my hand violently and pull me towards and through the entrance to a tunnel.  I glanced back to see the ceiling still falling down on the Tree Daemon.  A stronger tug on my arm made me face the right direction and run faster. 

            The three of us burst out of the tunnel into a small chamber, but kept right on running into another tunnel across from the one we exited.  We tore up that one, screeching around corners.  My wrist was staring to hurt.  Malfoy was holding on to it as though his life depended on it.  Yet, how could it?

            The tunnel was getting darker, yet we ran on, getting faster rather than slowing down.  The ground was getting slippery and I was finding it difficult to grip with my bare feet.  I flung my left hand forward and grabbed onto to Draco's arm for extra support, still running as fast as I could.  If I twisted something, Madame Pomfrey could always fix it.

            Suddenly light greeted my eyes and we barreled out of the tunnel into fresh evening air.  I didn't have a chance to breathe it in though, for Draco continued to pull on my arm, dragging me towards the trees, following closely after Colin.  I didn't even have a chance to say that I didn't have shoes on as we ran into them.  I glanced back, suddenly fearing that there was a reason to.  But there was nothing there.

            "Faster!" Draco yelled at me, pulling on my arm.  I let my right drop from his arm and was about to say something back, but had to bite back a scream instead.  I had just stepped on something pointy.  I glanced down.  Thistles.  We were running through thistles!  

            I bit back more cries of pain, trying to run faster.  It was a terrible horrid feeling.  Like I was running on a field of grass and every single piece was inserting itself into my foot.  To distract myself of the shooting pain in my feet I looked back again to make sure Joe wasn't following.  I let out a gasp.  He was limping out of the cave.

            "Draco!" I shrieked, pure fear taking over me.  I didn't want to go back.  I didn't want to get the two dearest to me involved.  I- did I just think that about a Malfoy? 

            "What?" he snapped, pulling on my arm as he avoided a fallen log.

            "He's following us!"  

            He whipped his head around and his eyes widened slightly.  "Run faster Colin!" he screamed, and when Colin glanced around and saw the approaching green thing he did just that.  Then Draco started to pull even harder.  "Run Weasley!" he snapped at me, something in his voice other than snappiness.  It was almost desperation, or something along those lines.

            Biting down on my lip to keep from screaming at my feet, I tried to run faster.  But the trees were holding me back.  They seemed to be holding back us all.  Grabbing at our clothes and tearing at our skin.  I could feel blood begin to trickle along my legs.  And I had no doubt that the other two were in a similar condition.  Yet we still pushed on, the trees tarring at us and scratching us as we ran faster than I think I have ever run.  

            I glanced back again.  "He's gaining on us!" I called my voice cracking.  I didn't care.  

            We suddenly burst through the trees and skidded onto a narrow path.  There was no time to adapt to the scenery as I was pulled faster by the blonde in front of me.  It was a lot easier to run on the path rather than through the trees, but my already bloodied feet didn't find the dirt and roots too much of a difference.  I told them to fuck off and ran for all I was worth.

            The path quickly got bigger and soon I was running almost beside Draco.  But he was still holding onto my hand with a vice grip.  Suddenly he put on a burst of speed, forcing me to run even faster.  

            "He's getting closer!" he called.  I looked around, and sure enough, there was a beaten up Joe barreling up the path towards us.  I bit back a scream and instead faced forwards.  

            The end of the trail came into sight and with it the wonderful sight of the Hogwarts school grounds.

            "Faster!" Draco urged me, pulling on my hand harder than ever.  With a goal in sight however, I found it was a bit easier to run faster.  We were almost there!

            A second later we burst through the forest and onto the blessedly soft grass.  It made my feet feel slightly better.  Ever so slightly.  We didn't stop running however, until we were midway between the school and the forest.  In perfect view of the Great Hall.

            We all stopped and turned around, waiting for Joe to make his big entrance.  He barreled towards us and I thought he wasn't going to stop.  But he couldn't drag all three of us back into the forest anymore.  People would hear us scream.  Yet on he ran.  I don't think I have ever seen something so angry.  Then, just as he was about to pass through the threshold of the forest he seemed to snag then fell down, apparently unconscious.

            I let out a terrified scream.  Yes a scream.  And stumbled back into Draco, shaking as though I had just fallen off a cliff and awoken from a dream.  His arms were instantly around me, holding me against him, as if trying to stop my shaking and shuddering breaths.  I could feel his chest heaving as he himself tried to steady his breathing.  I heard something thump to the ground and I shifted my gaze to the ground to see Colin lying there, gasping for breath like a goldfish.

            None of us moved, panting as if we had just run a marathon.  But then, I think we ran farther and faster.  Well a very short marathon at least.  But slowly our breathing started to return to normal.  

            "So, running away is a Gryffindor thing now too?" Draco suddenly said, and I could feel his chest moving as he spoke.  "Perhaps you all aren't as stupid as you seem."

            Colin lifted his head up from off the ground, glared, and seemed to think about raising a finger.  It seemed too much effort however as he simply let his head drop back to the ground remaining decidedly silent, still doing the goldfish pant.

            Yet despite all our breathing returning to normal, I couldn't stop shaking.  I don't even know why it was happening.  But it was getting really annoying.  Not to mention the fact that my body was starting to ache from all the unusual movement.  Draco's arms tightened around me, pulling me back against him harder.

            "Cold?" he asked in my ear.

            "No," I muttered back, shivering harder at the chills his breath sent down my spine.  "I don't know what it is."

            I closed my eyes, trying to concentrate on making the shivering stop.  I felt Draco turn me around, his hands lingering on my arms.  I could just feel him staring at me and for a moment I closed my eyes harder.  But that was pathetic.  I couldn't sit there and face the world with my eyes closed for the rest of my life.  So I opened them.

            Sure enough, he was staring at me.  And I can honestly say that I have never been stared at in such way ever before.  And I would have never dreamed that a look like that would ever come from a Malfoy.  It was just so full of concern, so full of _caring_ that the only thing I could do was stare back at him.  To realize just how lovely and passionate grey eyes could be.  Who would have thought?

            I felt my shivering begin to calm itself, slightly, but it was still an improvement.  Yet before I could comment on it, Draco's lips were on mine.  

            My eyes flew open just in time to see his slide shut.  Before I knew what I was doing, mine were sliding shut as well, and my hands made their way slowly up his arms to rest at his neck, seeming to make him shiver.  His arms wound there way around my waist and back, pulling me closer, pressing his lips against mine harder.

            "Uh," I heard someone say beside us.  It took me a moment to process that it was Colin.  "I'll just go get the uh... professors about... him."  

            He must have gestured towards Joe, but I didn't really care.  What had begun as a soft and rather gentle kiss had transformed into something more, something desperate.  It was as though Malfoy was going to die tomorrow and it was the last time he would ever kiss me, even though it was truly the first time.  

            And you know, instead of thinking all these terrible thoughts that I shouldn't be doing this with a Malfoy.  That it was all wrong.  That my family would kill me.  That his father would.  I kissed him back in exactly same way, pressing my body against him as though I would never touch him again, even though I never really had before.  I didn't care what he was; all I cared about was that he was him and that nothing else really mattered.  That it never should have.  

            His hands shifted and the ridiculous amount of hair on my head got caught in his fingers.  I couldn't help it, I gasped in surprise.  It hurts when someone pulls long hair.  An instant later his tongue had slipped into my mouth.  Without even thinking about it, mine met his.  I had always thought that French kissing was disgusting, but you know, it didn't really bother me.  Not at all.

            Now I want you to understand this so you don't think I am some sort of freakish crybaby.  I would have stayed like that all the way through eternity and back if I could have.  To stay in his arms, feeling incredibly warm, almost burning, where ever he touched me.  To never let go of the pure feeling that someone cared so much about me they were willing to risk their own life to save mine.  But nothing beautiful lasts.  

            Quite suddenly and inconspicuously I had this tremendous urge to get air.  So I gently pulled my mouth away from Draco's and he leant his forehead against mine, seeming to require the same thing.  I kept my eyes closed.  I'm still not quiet sure why I did.  Perhaps it was out of courtesy, but perhaps it was out of fear.  A strange and demented fear that I would find rejection in his face and my list of being used would grow even longer.

            Merlin, what the hell is wrong with me?  I've just been rescued and kissed till I almost saw stars and here I am scared that I am going to be rejected right now.  

            It was then and only then that everything seemed to weight down upon me.  Everything that had happened to me.  All the injustices through the years, all the failed friendships, being ignored by Harry, by my brother.  It was the most ridiculous time to do it too, in the arms of a guy who was completely opposite of all of that.  Who proved that not everything was as it seemed.  

            So I am sure you have already guessed what was happening: I had started to cry.  It was only after it had started that I realized that I must seem like some ninny who had just experienced something so wonderful that I couldn't keep my emotions in.  But I couldn't stop, no matter how hard I tried.  I haven't cried in front of someone in ages and I was burning with embarrassment that this break of habit would be in front of Draco Malfoy.  The person I had sworn never to cry before.  It's sort of ironic, isn't it?

            I don't think that he expected me to start crying.  His body went completely rigid as though he had suddenly turned to stone.  I was making him uncomfortable I realized and tried to pull away.  But he wouldn't let me.  As though he had just been turned back on, he cupped the back of my head and pulled me closer, resting his chin on the top on my head.  I clung to him as waves of relief washed through me.  Relief to be safe.  Relief to have someone to hold me.

            "What's wrong, Ginny?" he asked.  It didn't occur to me later that he used my first name.  All that really occurred to me was that he sounded so sympathetic, so alive.

            "My feet hurt," I mumbled from where my face was pressed into his chest.  It didn't sound like my voice.  I didn't even mean to say anything yet I apparently still had more to say: "And he- he..."  I moved my left hand away and gestured vaguely towards the fallen Tree Daemon.  But my voice caught in my throat and from that moment on I couldn't have uttered another word if I had needed to scream for my life.  

            I'm not exactly sure how long we stood there, but all I really know is that at some point he began to rub my back.  It was really rather a funny idea: Draco Malfoy rubbing some Weasley's back as though he were a mother.  But I think the thing that took the cake was that he began to mumble things.  Soothing things.  Or at least, they sounded soothing.  I couldn't actually hear him.  It was as though he was almost too embarrassed to hear them himself.  It actually made me smile.  After that it didn't take to long to stop crying.  And all that I had left to do was lean against Draco, his hand still rubbing my back in a soothing fashion.

            "There over here Professors," I heard Colin's voice calling from somewhere behind me.  "And that tree thing is just over there."

            We both stood there for a moment before realizing exactly what it was that voice represented.  Draco's grip on me tightened before he shifted his grip to my shoulders and pulled my body away from his.  I looked at him, not being able to help looking hurt.  But then he winked and smirked slightly.  There was no time to do any more.

            "Ginny!" I heard Ron's voice suddenly boom across the field.  Draco's arms dropped from mine and he stepped away.  I glanced at him, suddenly feeling shivery all over again.

            Ron came charging up the field, followed at a distance by a trotting group consisting of the Headmaster, each of our Heads of Houses, the Matron, Flitwick and the rest of the Dream Team.  I didn't even have a chance to reply before Ron's arms were around me in a bone crushing hug.  

            "Are you alright?" he demanded.  I didn't move.  I just stood there.  He didn't feel the same as Draco.  "Are you hurt?  Where have you been?"  Then he paused seeming to look at the blonde behind me with his rather damp looking shirt.  "Did he hurt you?"  At this one I shook my head quite violently.  "Cause if he did..."  I shook my head again.  

            "Mr. Weasley, stop crowding her," Madame Pomfrey said sternly pulling me away from my brother.  She waved her wand and a blanket was wrapped around my shoulders.  Another wave and Draco and Colin had one of their own as well.  She turned to the Headmaster who was looking at us with a mixture of sternness and relief.  "I'm going to take them up to the Hospital Wing, Albus," she called, and the old man nodded.  

            We were then herded towards the school, all three of walking side by side, myself in the middle.  Somewhere along the way, Draco's hand found mine and I couldn't help but smile.  Perhaps for the first time in months life was really starting to look up.

~*~  
A/N: Well there you go: Smootchies.  And a touch of fluff as well.  But I sort of wish that I hadn't made Ginny cry again.  The stupid baby.  But it's too late now.  There's going to be a lot more fluffy stuff in the next few chapters.  Not to mention a few more kissies.  And then some other crap too.  I figure I owe you all that much at least after all the poop I have made you read already.  Not that it's going to get much better.  Oh, and a gold star to everyone who can tell me what the Monty Python quote was. :D

Many _many_ thanks to: **tulzdavampslayer**(That is one odd mental image you gave me)**, Lady Laughs-A-Lot(I know what you mean. lol)**, Rockelle**(I think we should start a club. It would be fun)**, Seshet**(Why must you all threaten me?! :D)**, o0true0o**(So are you saying you have crossed over to our side then??)****, Darcel(Well you never know... Ginny is a pretty tasty bitch)**, Yami's Girl Forever(**Oh, you're no bother. :) And thanks for the ego boost)**, chimerical(**Gollum eh? But he's so cute! But maybe a bit of him did leech into Joe. I dunno)**, MarinKtimes10(**Thanks so much for taking the time to review all the chapters. What you said was very insightful. :) But I have to warn you: I _love_ writing cliffys. I really do. And if you think what I have written thus far is bad, I have a feeling you will scream bloody murder by chap 14 ~wink~)**, Gusha**(Aw, they're not that bad. Ok, maybe they are a little...)**, Lallie**(I know! Who do those strawberries think they are, blocking my lovely margaritas?? And yes, I am trying to sell my nose here. The stupid drippy thing. And now I must say: WRITE!!)**, KeeperOfTheMoon, Grey Sky Morning**(I think I prefer the screaming...)**, ali**(Uh, sorry ali's eyes...?)****, Cay(Did I screw up that majorly? Gah. Suppose I will have to edit that out some day...)****, poty-bag(Interesting name... But yes, Girl Guides are the Canadian version. And I was sadly a part of them. ~hangs head in shame~ Anyhoo, I'll just leave that last bit up to your imagination. ~wink~ And rock rules! Kudos to your bro :D)****, oliverwoodsgirl(Stupid world. Don't they understand that HP is THE most important thing there is in life?! I need help...)**, Meadow A(**Well, it's all typed up now, I just have to edit. So hopefully it won't take quite so long anymore)****, o0true0o(he he he)**, Arella Hallo, Hplova4eva, ILoveBen**(That us SO cool! I wish that would happen to me... :p You're very lucky)**, Lulu81**(There will be 16 ch in total. ~nods~ Just outta curiosity, which area of Canada are you from??)****, Amayatimes2(I love the hand size thing. It's amazing what you can discovered when bored out of your mind in school. Now try something else: lick your elbow. ;p)****, VoldemortsIllegitimateChild(Hmm, seems your picketing paid off... Love your name.) and ****Faile6.**


	12. Revelations Without Trees

Title: The Truth About Trees

Author: Tiny Q

E-Mail: one_legged_lesbian_seagull@hotmail.com

A/N: Well here it is.  The beginning of the fluff.  And there is more to come I assure you.  ~nods~  But just to warn you all, from here on in the corniness factor has shot straight up.  It's really rather sad but apparently unavoidable.  But yes, nothing really happens in this chapter, but it's an important chapter to the plot I guess.  Anyhoo, I am dedicating this chapter to my sister, who somehow managed to get a phone caught in her long hair and while screaming to her friends for help, her fingers somehow managed to dial 911 and sent two police cars roaring up the driveway five minutes later.  Ah, she's so blonde.

Disclaimer: I own nothing!  ~sings~ Nothing!  Nothing!  Nothing! ~gets hit in the head by a rubber chicken~  Ow.

**The Truth About Trees******

**Chapter 12**

**Revelations Without Trees**

~*~

            It didn't take the matron very long to realize that we were injured.  Actually, it was quite a fast reaction considering, of course, that we were covered in blood from our run ins with the trees and other pointy objects that reside in forests.  Not to mention that we were all shivering as the entire ordeal began to sink in.  Ginny worst of all.  Guess she's Ginny again.  Her first name and last name seem to be blinking in my head.

            We were ushered into the hospital wing, where she had us all sit down on separate beds.  Camera Boy's was beside the window and Ginny was on the one between us.  Not that I would have minded her in mine.  I did not just think that willingly.  I did not just think that!

            It seemed that none of us had enough energy to talk though or even nod.  All we really seemed able to do was stare at one another, and I wasn't about to participate in that spectator's sport, thank you very much.

            Madame Pomfrey returned a few minutes later clutching three steaming goblets in her hands.  Great.  Potions.  But I couldn't even find enough energy to speculate as to what it was.  It could have been kneazle piss for all I cared.  Well, perhaps I would have cared, but that's beside the point.  

            I didn't even protest at how foul it tasted.  I actually would have complimented it, if I had been a touch further gone.  As soon as it spilled into my mouth, I felt warmth radiate through me.  Not the kind of warmth that Ginny sent though, 'cause that's a special kind.  I still can't believe I actually kissed her.  That I had willingly dipped my head and kissed her.  Sure, I'd been wanting to for so long, but to actually do it?  Especially after all that she had gone through?  Wasn't that like taking advantage of someone?  

            Yet she had just looked so pathetic, so run down, so in need of being held.  So I found myself holding her, no thought involved.  It was almost like an instinct.  An instinct that is completely against everything I have ever been taught.  After the age of four I was never coddled or any such thing when I was upset.  It was just assumed that I would get better.  That I didn't need to be held.  So it's a little surprising that I actually knew what to do.  How to hold someone when they need it.  

            But that kiss.  I just can't stop thinking about it.  I still can't believe it happened.  I never thought a kiss like that could actually exist.  A kiss that could contain so much emotion, so much caring and so many feelings all in one.  I suppose that is another fault in my upbringing: I was always told that a kiss was nothing more than something a man does to get what he wants from a woman.  Or at least that was what my father always said.  I never believed it.  Never.  And I am glad that what I didn't believe wasn't right.  That there was so much more to it that just taking.  

            I was interrupted from further thoughts as the matron returned closing the curtains around each of our beds.  She entered my closed off cubical and carefully placed a set of pajamas next to me.  I stared at her.  She gave me a slight smile, taking the empty goblet from my hand then disappeared through the curtains once more.  Was I imagining things?  Did that horrid woman actually smile at me?  I really have gone insane.

            I stared at the clothes for a moment then realized that I was going to have to stay here for a night.  Goody.  At least I wouldn't be alone though.  So I tugged off my once expensive looking clothes and dropped them to the floor like the rags they now were.  Like I would ever be able to wear something so torn and tattered ever again.  I looked down at myself, and took a double take.  All the little scratches that had covered my body were gone.  I raised an eyebrow.  Perhaps that woman wasn't so terrible after all.  A cure for tree attacks.  How poetic.  

            I pulled the dull green striped pajamas on and crawled under the white sheets on the bed.  They were pleasantly warm and the pillow was very soft.  Softer than my own.  I will have to get a pillow like this.  

            My curtains were pulled back by Professor Dumbledore however.  I would have to enjoy the sinfully soft pillow later.  I looked at the headmaster in curiosity, but he only smiled then proceeded to pull Ginny's and Colin's curtains back as well so I could see them all.  Dumbledore then summoned a chair and settled himself down between myself and Ginny.

            "So," he said pleasantly enough, looking at each of us in turn.  "Do you three want to tell me what happened tonight?"  

            I glanced at Ginny.  She looked a little white, but opened her mouth.  "Well, Professor," she began, her voice cracking slightly.  "I was stupidly outside last night, sitting in a tree..."

            It didn't take very long for the entire story to come out.  With the exception of Ginny and I snogging at the end.  When she couldn't continue or had forgotten bits, Camera Boy or I would fill in.  The Headmaster remained quiet the entire time, nodding or say "ah" a few times.  When we were finished we all sat there silently, waiting.

            "Well, I must say first that it was very foolish of you, Miss Weasley, to be sitting out alone by the forest near dark."  Ginny hung her head and that pesky feeling in my chest returned as I stared at her.  "And I must also say that it was very foolish of the two of you to go in after her without telling anyone."  I felt the need to hang my head as well, but resisted the urge.  I didn't feel that what I had done was wrong in any way.  Perhaps he was right on the foolishness bit, but I wasn't about to feel guilty about it.

            "However, you both did an outstanding job dealing with Joe," he said, his eyes twinkling.  Ginny's head shot up.

            "You know him?" she asked, seeming to not quite believe it.

            "Of course I do, Miss. Weasley," Dumbledore said, eyes still twinkling.  "I have been trying to get him out of the forest for months but as he probably gloated to you about it, I have no power over him."  

            Ginny's eyes widened.  "But then, what about the shield thingy that knocked him out?  If you have no power over him, how did you stop him?"  I found myself nodding in agreement.  It made little sense to me either.  This Joe should have gotten us in his rage.

            "That wasn't my magic," Dumbledore said patiently.  "That is an entirely different type.  A universal type of magic that has power over all on this planet."  He paused for a moment, surveying us.  "It was a simple charm that was put around the forest when this school was first built that keeps all creatures with angry and violent intentions inside the forest.  I've found it quite handy on a few occasions."

            I stared at him.  Well that seemed simple in an oddly clichéd way.  But leave it to the old loon to tell it to us in such a simple way.  A shield against violence.  Why didn't they just give it to everyone?  We could all walk around in happy little bubbles and never feel worry or distress again.  But then knowing humans we would find some other way to hurt each other.  It just seems that's how the world works.  Or at least the Wizarding one, can't say much for the Muggles.

            "But he said he was plotting to keep me as a pet all year," Ginny suddenly uttered, frowning at the headmaster.  "And what about the Hufflepuffs?  He said that he had gotten them too.  How did he get them?  How did he get me?"

            "Alas," the old man said tiredly.  "The problem with a charm that has existed for such a long period of time is that the people it affects eventually figure out how to get around it."  Well, that sort of defeats the point then, doesn't it?  "All Joe had to do to get past it was to mind what types of thoughts were in his head."

            "Oh," Ginny said flatly, looking slightly disappointed.  Though as to why is beyond me.  

            We all lapsed into silence.  I found myself looking over to Camera Boy who hadn't asked any questions of his own.  He seemed to be nodding off against his hand.  What a strange child.

            "Well, I suppose that I should let you sleep.  You have been through a lot."  The old man stood up, banishing the chair back to where he had summoned it from.  He took a few steps away from our beds then stopped.  "Oh," he said, reaching into his robes.  He turned back around to face Ginny, a wand in his hands.  "I believe this is yours Miss. Weasley."

            Ginny reached out and took the proffered wand, looking at it as if she hadn't seen it in years.  Now it made sense as to why she had been captured.  She had had no way to defend herself.  But then, she had dealt me a good blow without magic a few months ago.  Which I suppose means that Joe had caught her unawares.  I'm sure it would have been another story if the girl had been able to elbow the git.

            "Now if there is anything else," the headmaster said, leaving the question hanging.

            "Uh, well, there sort of is," I said before I could stop myself.  The white bearded man looked at me questioningly.  Guess I will just have to continue then.  "Do I still have to serve detention?"

            He smiled at me.  "Yes, Mr. Malfoy, you do."  With that, he turned and disappeared into Madame Pomfrey's office.

            "You always will be a Slytherin," Camera Boy sneered at me, his head still on his hand.  

            "Well it's better than being a Gryffindor," I drawled back, smirking at both him and Ginny.  Yet neither had a chance to reply as the matron had made her return.  She closed our curtains without a word and I heard her shoes click their way back to the office.  

            I reclined back into my bed, staring up at the ceiling figuring that there really wasn't anything better to do than to try and sleep.  A few minutes later the lights in the wing went out, plunging me into semidarkness.  Or however dark they ever make it in a place like this.  Wouldn't want to go walking into a bedpan or something daft like that.  

            I rolled my head to the side, but the pillow just didn't seem as soft as it had before.  Stupid thing.  It figures though, doesn't it?  So of course I began to think.  As usual.  You know who it was about.  Ginny.  

            It was actually kind of exhilarating to save her.  To have to sneak about like a spy to get to her.  To face all those challenges.  Now I think I know why the Dream Team is always getting themselves mixed up into things like that.  It feels great.  Even better than saving that piece of soap.  Which I suppose, technically, that was what Ginny had been, the little piece of soap that just held on.  Now that is an interesting way to see things I suppose.

            "Draco?" I heard the exact girl on my mind whisper quietly from behind the curtain to my right.  "Draco are you asleep?"

            I still can't really get overt the fact that she's calling me "Draco" now.  I've been so used to Malfoy rolling off her tongue, sometimes being spat, that it just seems too odd.  No to mention a little exciting.  She likes my name enough to use it.  

            "How could I answer that if I really was?" I drawled.  It really was a stupid question.  How could anyone answer that?

            "I don't know, maybe you talk in your sleep..." her voice trailed off.  

            Before I really knew what I was doing, I had pulled back the sheets on my bed and had let my feet land on the floor.  I felt a thrill as the cool tiles greeted my bare feet, but I ignored it and made my way towards the curtain.  

            Pulling it back, I poked my head in.  Weasley was lying on the bed, the blankets pulled up to her chin, yet her eyes seemed active enough that she could have been on a chocolate high.  Something on the floor caught my eye and I looked down to see the nightgown she had worn discarded on the ground in a similar fashion as my own clothes had been.  Though it seemed she had taken it a step further and stomped on it a few times, for there were bloody smudges on it.  

            "And why aren't you asleep?" I asked, my mouth seeming to take over before I could even think about asking anything.  I really think I need a new mouth.  Anyone wan to buy a slightly used mouth that seems to have a mind of its own?

            "I don't want to," she said softly, her eyes stopping their activities and resting on me.  "I've been asleep enough lately."  

            I looked at her.  The tracks under her eyes screamed for sleep, so did the red veins in the whites of her eyes.  Even her posture was that of an extremely tired person.  

            "That wasn't sleep," I replied softly.  I didn't know I could make my voice sound that soft.  She seemed quite surprised as well.  "Well, not proper sleep anyways."

            "But what if I don't wake up?" she asked.  I opened my mouth to say something but she continued before I could say anything:  "I know it sounds stupid, but what if I don't?"

            "Well," I said, giving up the fight with my mouth.  If it wanted to speak, let it.  I give up.  "You will wake up.  I'll make sure of it."

            She stared at me for a long moment, seeming to try and decide something.  Something difficult.  But whatever it was, she never did tell me.  She just smiled slightly.  There was that feeling again.

            "Fine," she sighed, pulling the sheets up even closer to her chin.  "I trust you.  But if I never wake up, you'll pay."

            "And how will I?" I drawled, walking towards her.  "If you are still asleep, you won't be able to do anything to me.  Not that you could anyway."

            She frowned.  "Well, there are six ways you will pay really," she said, her voice becoming a touch harsher than before, but not by much.  "I call them brothers.  You might have a different name for them though.  I hope it's something that strikes fear into your heart."

            I laughed softly at that.  Well, it was rather funny.  But the name I had didn't really work.  Perhaps I would need a new one.  

            "Goodnight," I said in this new soft voice that I apparently own.  Then I leant down, no thought put in this action either, and kissed her forehead.  

            I turned quickly away then, so I didn't have to see the surprised look on her face or to let her see the mirror version on my own.  Since when do I kiss people on the forehead?  I never even did that to my mother!  I am now certifiably insane.

            I made my way to my bed, leaving the curtains open, so I could see her if need be.  Then I quickly got into bed, dropping my head onto the pillow and rolling over so my back was to her.  I didn't want her to see my face.  I didn't want her to see the ridiculous red on my cheeks.  Malfoys do not blush.  _I do not blush._

            "Draco?" her voice called almost nervously.  

            "What?" I mumbled, refusing to turn over and look at her.  

            "Goodnight."

            That one word said by her voice alone was enough to ease my mind to sleep.

~*~

            You know, I really don't now what is wrong with me.  I have been sitting in this seat, staring at the front of the class with my head resting on my hand for the last twenty minutes.  But the odd thing is that I am not really staring at anything at all.  And I must have the dopiest face on, perhaps even with a touch of adoration on it.  But seriously, what is wrong with me?  How can I be sitting here, not taking in a word of what the Auror training professor has to say?  It just doesn't make sense.  One would think that I was sent off to Never Never land by some guy.

            And you know, I think they might be right.  I am sitting here all gaga eyed over a Malfoy.  And not just _any_ Malfoy.  Nope.  It had to be the mortal enemy of my brother, the son of the man who once indirectly left me to die and the boy who somehow wormed his way into my heart.  Did you know that he actually made sure that I was awake before he left for afternoon classes this morning?  Well he did.  I still can't believe that I had even said any of that.  Too scared to go to sleep.  What rubbish.  And that kiss on the forehead?  What was with that?  Is it even possible for a Malfoy to do that?  Apparently so.

            But not only that, he saved me.  With Colin's help of course, but he saved me.  I still can't quite get my mind around being captured by a Tree Daemon.  Not to mention one named Joe.  I still don't think I will ever get over that name, nor will I ever be able to have a friend named Joe, let alone a child with that name.  Merlin forbid if my child was a Joe.  But yes besides all that, he saved me.  Like a princess in a story that gets saved by Prince Charming from an evil dragon or wicked witch or something.  Ok, that was a little extreme, wasn't it?  

            I idly began to use my other hand to twirl the long hair that was falling around me.  Somehow I can't bring myself to cut it just yet.  It's just so bizarre to see and I kind of enjoy the looks I am getting from people.  Madame Pomfrey told me that the spell that had been used on it had simply accelerated the growth and if I took care of it, it would stay like this for however long I wanted.  Or I could even grow it longer.  

            But I don't think I will.  I am already having a lot of problems with it.  While trying to get my skirt on, my hair got caught in the zipper, much to my own embarrassment as people began to ask what was wrong when I yelped in pain.  A little bit later I was stooping to get a book, and this stupid hair caught under my foot and I went crashing to the ground.  Much to the amusement of the people in the Common Room, I can assure you.  But I think the real reason I would lop it off was because it seemed to be a beacon to people that something had happened to me.  And they kept asking questions.

            I guess that the story had gotten out that what ever had happened to the Hufflepuffs had happened to me as well.  That I had somehow wandered into the forest and ran into something evil and that somehow Malfoy was involved in my injuries.  Totally ridiculous if you ask me.  So that's why when ever someone asked me what had happened I would reply that I was still too "traumatized" to speak about it.  And when they spoke about the "evil creature" as they put it, I would simply imply that what kind of creature would make my hair grow if it was really evil.  The last thing I wanted was for people to know that I had been a pet, even if it had only been for a day.  That would just be awkward.

            But all this is still no real reason to be all wide eyed in love.  Ok, so I had been rescued.  Harry had rescued me from the clutches of Riddle.  So Draco saved me from the clutches of Joe.  But Draco had kissed me.  Harry never kissed me.  Now that I think about it, he seemed to have saved me simply because he felt it was his duty, that he was the only one who could have done it.  If there had been some other girl in that chamber I don't doubt for an instant that he would have done the same thing.  Yet with Draco it was different.  If I had been some other girl he never would have gone in there himself.  He would have let someone else do the dirty work.  I suppose that's where the driftingness came from: he chose me to rescue.  He saved me because he wanted to, not because he felt obligated to do so.  It was simply because of me.

            Now, I would think that I was reading into all of this a little too much, but you have to admit, the kiss and the hospital wing stuff are pretty good indications.  And you know what?  The idea really isn't all that terrible.  I rather like it really.  That someone outside of my family could care that much about me.  

            It's funny how you can find something wonderful in such a roughly polished person.  Sort of like how you can pan for gold at the town fairs and things.  First you have to toss all the large rocks out, or in Draco's case, get past his harsh and impersonal personality.  Then you begin to work on medium sized rocks, which would be getting past the way he acts towards you, sarcasm included.  All the while you see the fine sand in the center of the pan, which would be the personality that he tries and hides so well.  Then you work down to smaller rocks, needling past his harsher comments to more impassive ones, all the while getting further glimpses at the sand like decent personality.  When you finally have all the rocks out and all you are left with is sand, which is where I was before Joe took me.  

            I had almost complete access to whole he was, who he really was, not just that facade that he portrayed.  I realize this now.  Now, it at this time that the panner will often find their golden "nugget" which if often nothing more than a little sliver.  Sometimes they will be lucky and the people in charge might have slipped up and put another piece or two in there with it.  But I think I was beyond lucky.  I found a real nugget.  I found the good in Malfoy.  And it is better than any amount of slivers could ever be.

~*~

            Since we got to sleep in, I didn't see her in potions class.  I am still dreading our next one.  What would it be like?  To have to sit by her and pretend that nothing has happened?  Those other students are such gossips that it's disgusting.  Well, actually it's rather entertaining to listen to when there is nothing better to do.  I think that even Snape might enjoy listening to it as well because he rarely ever tells them to stop.  That's a rather disturbing thought though: Snape listening to gossip.

            But I see her now.  She's at the Gryffindor table, seemingly listening to Camera Boy and a few other students in her year.  But she keeps glancing over here.  I hope no one notices.  I really should stop looking over at her.  It's like I'm encouraging her.

            "So Draco," Goyle's voice distracted me from the red head.  I turned and stared at his oh-so-pleasant looking face.  "How did you do it?"

            "How did I do what?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.  What was the oaf going on about now?

            "The rumor going around lately is that you had something to do with Weasley going into the forest," he explained, raising his own bushy eyebrows.  That guy should really pluck that uni-brow.  It's down right disgusting.  "How did you do it?"

            "It's already going around?" I asked, containing my surprise with a drawl.  I hadn't actually expected people to figure it out.  I thought it would be like with the Hufflepuffs, where they were just anonymous students.  But then, Weasley's hair and me being absent from the dorm room last night and Weasley for two, probably makes it quite simple to figure out for the persons of average intelligence.  But then how did Goyle figure it out?

            Goyle nodded, reminding me of one of those daft bobble head things they sell at the really cheap Wizarding shops.  "Uh-huh."  He nodded some more.  "So, how did you persuade her?"

            "I didn't persuade her," I spat, suddenly feeling rage at his impersonal implications.  She had been kidnapped!  She wasn't that retarded that she would just walk into the arms of that stupid tree thing.  But then, as far as he was concerned she was just a Gryffindor.  The enemy.  Someone to torment.  And that was the way I was supposed to see her as well.  "I didn't need to."

            "Are you telling me that you just told her to go in the forest and she obeyed?" Goyle asked in utter disbelief.

            "I'm not saying anything, Goyle," I sneered slightly, restraining the urge to strangle the git.  "But it's amazing what a little of the Malfoy charm can do."  I cocked an eyebrow as if to prove a point.  How could I have said that?

            Goyle stared at me blankly for a moment, a long drawn out moment, and then realization seemed to hit him.  "Ooooh," he said in what seemed to me to be stupidity.  "I get ya."

            "I doubt you do," I said simply.  Goyle frowned.  "But keep whatever you think you get to yourself.  I'm working on something here and the last thing I need you to do is to go and spoil it."

            Goyle frowned at me for a moment longer.  "I won't," he said simply, seeming to gather some intelligence.  He paused.  "Can I tell Crabbe?" 

            "If you must," I sighed.  "But if anyone else finds out, I will be coming after the two of you, weather it was you or not."  I let the rumor hanging in the air.

            The huge lug nodded then turned back to his food, which he began to make disappear at an exponential rate.  Why did I ever bother with these garberators?  I don't think I have ever met someone so stupid, let alone a set of them.  But I suppose they would serve a purpose for the time being.  If they don't want me to get them while they sleep they will keep the rumors down.  Or at least I hope they will, but I don't think I have to worry just yet.  

            I glanced over at the Gryffindor table only to have to take a second one.  Weasley was gone.  Her plate was empty.  Apparently she had finished dinner and left.  Well, isn't that what anyone would do if they were done?  Especially with the company she keeps?  I glanced down at my own plate of little leftovers and didn't feel like finishing them.  So I excused myself from Goyle and left the Great Hall in search of Weasley.

            I walked straight, heading towards the library.  It seemed like a place to start.  I don't think that she would be by trees willingly if she didn't need to be.  Yet my quest was short lived.  I rounded a corner that led to the rather empty staircase that I usually take to get to the library and there she was.  She was sitting cross-legged on the bottom step, holding onto her ankles.  

            As soon as she saw me she blushed slightly and smiled nervously.  I felt that feeling in my stomach again.  But I don't see why it would be there.  How could this be any different than it's been lately?  

            "Hi," she said as I came to a stop in front of her.  "I thought you might be coming this way."

            "And why would you think that?" I asked, frowning down on her slightly.  No really, how could she have known?

            "Because where else would you go?" she asked simply.  "Certainly not to your dorm, not at this time anyway.  And I was betting that you wouldn't go outside, so I suspected the library was the next best place."

            I stared at her.  Well, that's a little creepy.  At least she didn't base it off a routine that she has discovered by stalking me all the time.  I don't think I would like it if anyone would do that.  Not even her.

            "So?" she asked, looking at me expectantly.  The nervous expression had left and instead had been replaced by a slightly mischievous grin.  I frowned.

            "So what?" I asked, frowning yet harder.

            "Never mind," she sighed.  "Just keep standing there like some freakish statue and see if I care."

            I stared at her for a moment.  Freakish statue?  Why would I look like that?  Realization suddenly hitting me, I sat down.

            "OW!" she cried from beside me.  "You're on my hair!"

            "Oh!" I let out, and quickly removed my ass from her hair.  "Sorry."  I looked at her in concern.  She was pulling the excessively long hair away from me and tossing it to the other side of her body.  

            "It's ok," she grumbled, massaging her head.  "It's been happening all day."

            "Why did you leave it?" I asked before I could stop myself.  Seems my mouth has once again taken over.  How splendid.

            She stopped her massage and stared at me.  It was a funny look and I was beginning to get the feeling that I had said something wrong.  And for some reason this really bothered me.  I suppose the last thing I want is to turn into her brother.

            "I don't know," she said finally, looking away from me, and twirling some of the hair in question around her finger tips.  "I just don't think I should just yet."  She looked at me again, this time a twinkle in her eye.  "Why?  Don't you like it?"  

            Before I could say another word, she had brought the hand and the hair towards my face and began to tickle my nose with it.

            "Gah," I sputtered, leaning back.  "Ginny!  That's disgusting!"

            She laughed at me then cooed: "Aww, poor Drackypoo is scared of a few dead cells.  Where's his savior?"

            "There aren't just a few dead cells," I found myself sneering, stopping my retreat as she continued to wave the hair at me.  "There's more hair than is natural."

            "That's the best part of it though," she said, sounding more serious than before.  "I didn't have to wait twenty years to grow it."  She stopped waving it then, but didn't move from her position facing me.  

            Having nothing better to say, I simply found myself staring at her.  But she wasn't quite staring at me.  Oh, she was staring at my face, but it seemed more like she was staring through it.  I frowned at her, not for the first time in the last few minutes.  This only seemed to make her smirk.  Great, that smirking thing again.

            "You know what was one of the first things I thought about you this year was?" she said suddenly, bringing her eyes back to focus.  She smirked a bit wider.  I raised an eyebrow in silent question.  "That if you kept frowning that line in-between your eyebrows would become permanent."

            "What?" I asked, my face dropping into a look of utter surprise before I had a chance to compose myself.  Honestly, showing surprise to a Weasley.  But what a Weasley to show it to.  No, I did not just think that.  "I do not have any lines on my face!"

            "Oh, but you do," she said softly, narrowing her eyes.  "And they're going to get deep and make you ugly and unsightly and no one will ever want to be around you, let alone be with you."

            "So are you saying I had better bag one now before I get too ugly?" I drawled, narrowing my eyes slightly.  

            She smirked at me.  "I suppose," she said slowly, smirking a bit more.  "But I don't know anyone who would be stupid-"

            I didn't think.  Again.  I've really got to stop doing this.  One minute I was staring at her the next I was kissing her.  It wasn't as deep a kiss as the other one.  Actually, most would simply call it a peck, but it was enough to send that fuzzy warm feeling through out my body.  Who would have know a Weasley could give me warm fuzzies.  That sounds wrong.

            "Are you saying that you don't know yourself?" I said softly, pulling back.  

            She stared at me for a moment seeming to try and process what had just happened.  Yet after a moment she frowned.  Much faster reaction time than Goyle.  Good.  I'd be worried if she didn't.  

            "You are such an ass," she hissed at me.  Only thing I could do was smirk because her lips were on mine before I could say anything in my defense.

            Without a second's thought I was kissing her back, my eyes closed.  I rather like it when I lose control of these actions.  The way my arms can wrap around her and pull her closer without me even having to think about it.  I suppose it can get us into trouble somewhere along the line.  A lot of trouble now that I think about it.  But it won't get that far.  At least, not on this step.

            It's funny though.  When she's in my arms I suddenly don't want to be who I am anymore.  I want to be someone different. Someone better.  For her.  It's ridiculous.  Why would she be around me if she didn't like who I was?  Yet, somewhere inside me I just feel that that is not a good enough reason.  Who ever knew I could care so much?  That I was even capable of feeling that much?  I know I must sound like a broken radio, but I still don't get it.  

            She pulled away from me after a moment, and I felt disappointment course through me.  I growled at it as she rested her head against my shoulder.  

            Her hair really was too long though.  I could feel it fall against me like a blanket as her body settled.  A very smelly blankets.  If blankets smelt like fruits I mean.  

            Stooping my head, I stuck my face into her hair, bringing my mouth close to her ear.

            "Meet me at the lake after classes," I heard myself whispering into her ear.  Well, I suppose I should really just give up the battle with my mouth.  There seems to be no controlling the bloody thing.  

            She sat back slightly, looking rather perturbed.  "As what?" she asked.

            I stared at her.  As what?  What did he mean?  Oh.  That.  Well mouth, give an answer, will you?  But none came.  Bloody thing only seems to want to speak for itself when I don't want it to.  How quaint.  

            "Well, what do you want it to be as?" I asked, resisting the sudden urge to bang my head against the step above us.  That tactic never works, Draco.  And we don't want to go proving to her that we really are an idiot.  What you said was bad enough.

            She stared for a moment longer then grinned suddenly.  "You're blushing," she giggled.  

            I once again felt surprise wash over me, and sat back.  "Malfoys do not blush," I said firmly, repeating to her what I had repeated to myself.  It sounded weak even to me.  

            "What ever you say, _Draco," she said in a long and drawn out voice, as though trying to impersonate my drawl.  Terribly I might add.  At least I still have that where as my ego is slipping through my fingers like a very slippery, stinky fish.  Ich._

            She suddenly stood up, leaving me alone, and suddenly feeling chilled on the step.  I looked up at her, keeping yet another disappointed feeling from showing on my face.  She smiled down on me, brushing out her skirt and cloak.  

            "I'll see you tomorrow then," she said, then turned on her heel and walked quickly away and out of sight.  

            I stared after her.  How the hell did I ever manage to get myself into this?  How the hell did I ever manage to find someone like her?

~*~

            I felt like I was gliding as I went back to the Common Room.  I knew that dreamy look was back on my face, but I didn't really care.  I was going to look dreamy and there was no one who was going to stop me.

            I had a boyfriend.  A real, genuine boyfriend.  One I could kiss and cling to when ever I wanted, and one whom could do the same in return.  I still can't quite believe it.  It makes me want to run.  And skip.  And maybe sing a few songs on the tops of my lungs.  Not that this would do me much good.  Well, it would for a time, but people would begin to wonder if perhaps I had received more than long hair.  Perhaps a few whacks on the head had been in the roster as well.

            Students had already begun to slug their ways around the school by the time I had gotten to the Fat Lady.  I cheerfully said the password.  Fairy turds.  Don't ask.  Crawling through the portrait hole, the daft look still on my face, I looked around.  There was no one in the Common Room.  I had this sinking feeling that perhaps someone was going to manage to destroy my dreamy happy feeling.

            "Ginny," I heard someone call from the corner that had once belonged to the twins.  It was Harry.  "Could I speak to you for a moment?"  Yup, knew it.

            Without replying, I moved towards him, taking the only chair available which was conveniently placed directly across from him.  I was beginning to get this wonderful feeling of deja-vu.  And I was also getting the sinking suspicion that this time wouldn't be as friendly.

            "So," I said slowly, leaning back in the squashy armchair.  "What would you like to talk to me about, Harry?"  I was trying to sound neutral but I know I must have sounded rather daft.  I haven't really had a chance to think about Harry, well at least what has recently happened to him, in a while.  Actually, it was only a day and a half but it feels like so much longer.  

            "I think you know exactly what I want to talk to you about."  I stared at him in confusion.  Play dumb. Let him explain.  Never presume anything.  That way you end up revealing things you shouldn't.  "I has to do with what we talked about last time we sat alone in here."

            "I don't really remember what we talked about," I said innocently.  Bull.  I knew exactly what we talked about: that I should be careful around Draco.  Well, I suppose I had been.  But now what?

            "Ginny, don't play stupid," he growled at me suddenly.  Apparently he had a short temper today.  I looked at him in mild surprise.  "I saw you kiss him!"

            Shit.

            I stared at him for a moment.  "Yeah, so?" I asked as impassively as I could.  Maybe he thought I kissed someone else.  Maybe he didn't really know.  Oh who am I kidding?  Of course he knows.  He's Harry bloody Potter.  What doesn't he know?  What isn't he able to figure out?  In due time of course.  

            "So?  So!" he said angrily, his voice suddenly rising.  "It's one thing to be _friends with Malfoy, but to _kiss_ him?!  Are you out of your mind?!"_

            Most likely.  "I don't think who I kiss is any of your business, Harry," I said curtly, glaring at him.  It really wasn't.  That was entirely my business.  "And besides, I thought you were mad at me."

            "I was- I am-" he stuttered, seeming to instantly deflate.  I felt a sudden pang of guilt.  I had been screwing around with him so much lately.  Everyone had.  It just wasn't fair.  The kid doesn't have any luck.  Oh, he had _luck but not the kind when it comes to happiness.  It seems to always be so short lived.  _

            So instead of saying anything I simply raised an eyebrow and waited for him to sort himself out.  

            "It's funny you know," he finally said, dropping his head down.  It's odd how he can go from angry to depressed so fast.

            "What is?" I asked him, leaning forward slightly.  What was wrong now?  What had I done?

            "You were always chasing after me," he said rather flatly.  I felt a pang.  This isn't going the way I think it is.  It can't be going the way I think it is.  "And now that you've moved on, I don't think that I would ignore you anymore."

            "Harry," I said slowly.  I can't believe this is happening.  What are the chances?  It's like something out of a corny novel.  This stuff isn't really supposed to happen.  He's not supposed to fall for the old fan club.  "You're just confused."

            "How?" he demanded.  "How can I be confused?  Feelings like these are not easy to be confused over."

            "But they are," I said earnestly, hoping to Merlin that they could be.  "Things just aren't going well for you this year, Harry.  And I sympathize, I really do.  But falling for me will do you absolutely no good."  I reached out and took his hand.  It seemed the thing to do really.  I probably should have done this when he and Hermione broke up.  "We won't work.  We never would.  I figured that out a long time ago.  Please don't waste as long as I did figuring that out.  You're too good to do that to yourself."  I grinned slightly.  "Besides, you are more like a brother to me than anything else these days.  And it would just be gross."

            He stared at my hand clasped around his for a moment, seeming ton try and prove to himself that it was real.  Then he squeezed it and looked up at me.  "I don't think I have ever heard you talk like that," he said slowly, his green eyes staring into mine.  "It's not just some thing, is it?"

            I stared back at him for a moment.  "No," I said softly.  "I don't think it is."  Then something occurred to me.  "Ron doesn't know, does he?"

            Harry grinned suddenly.  "Well, I had to tell someone," he said slowly.  "You know me, I can't keep a secret if my life depended on it.  He's probably on his way to kill the git now."

            I looked at him.  That would be bad.

            "If you ever tell, I will kill you, Harry," I growled.  

            "No need to get aggressive," he said lightly, smiling at me.  "I would have to tell someone else to tell Ron.  He has that kill the messenger policy you know.  It's probably all around the school now."

            It was odd.  I ended up sitting there with Harry for almost two hours.  We talked about all sorts of stuff and it was rather refreshing.  I hadn't really had a chance to sit with him like this for a long time.  Ever, now that I think about it.  It was just like hanging out with Charlie or Bill or even Percy if you get him on an interesting enough topic.  And I hope that it killed off whatever he was feeling.  That would just be awkward if I was with Draco and his enemy was pinning after me.  I have had enough of the love triangles from afar.  I do not want to participate.

            I ended up going to bed rather late.  I would have stayed up longer actually, that was how good our conversation was going, but Ron decided he would interfere.  He didn't want Harry to keep his distraught sister up any longer for I apparently need sleep to get over what ever it was he thought I had problems with.  But I think talking helps a lot more.  I didn't think once about Joe.  

            But then Ron doesn't quite know what he is talking about really.  He hasn't said much to me since he gave me that hug, well, other than sorry.  I am assuming that it was for him being such an ass.  I never asked.  But I can't really make myself care that much that he isn't talking to me.  Not for the moment anyway.  I just don't think his voice will stop echoing for a while.

~*~

A/N: Well, that was all rather stupid really.  And pointless.  And corny.  Beyond corny.  A magical barrier?  I really am terrible at coming up with crap like that.  I should stop trying to write suspense action crap.  Anyhoo, next chapter is the last fluffy chapter.  Then we move into some good old angst.  And a bit more than simple angst, but you will just have to wait and see.

Many thanks to: **o0true0o, Lallie**(Well, Ron is apparently oblivious. And maybe Gin will end up wearing a bucket in the end. Or it could be another fic entirely. Damn another idea. ~sob~ Thank you ever so much)**, Annie Maria, jennis**(They were pulled into the forest?)**, Lady Laughs-A-Lot(Well, it won't really be that. Maybe a little but I have to solve Draco's issues. It can't all be about Gin even though it is...)**, Hplova4eva, samijo, Goddess(**Yay! You're the only one who found it! Kudos to you and a gold star * ~hoping you pretend it's gold cause Tiny Q is a cheap bum~)****, Spreet(Oh, there will be an epilogue, but it's not time yet)**, Isadora**(Perhaps I will have to solve his loneliness, someday...)****, Monique(I leave stories too, but I am glad that you came back and liked it)**, dracoscutie, azalai**(~laughs at tree part~ But no, that quote was all my own)**, SkysTheLimit, Darcel**(Hey, he might make a return and gobble her up!)**, Kryssaean**(But of course, got to stay true to the books in some way ;p)****, cactuskitty(Well, I do have a stick in my bedroom. His name is Stick)**, tulzdavampslayer**(I'm sorry to hear that. I really am. And you are definitely not pathetic. Far from)**, Laiannon-fae-elf, SteelAzalea**(Nope, that one was from Might Mouse. Or Man on the Moon, but that was him quoting Mighty Mouse as well)****, oliverwoodsgirl and ****Tessa1(I love Draco too. If only he was mine... ~ponders cloning~)**.****


	13. Walkmongers

Title: The Truth About Trees

Author: Tiny Q

E-Mail: one_legged_lesbian_seagull@hotmail.com

A/N: Well, this is the last of the corny chapters.  I think I was too happy over the summer because it definitely put a downer on my angst output.  Oh well.  Not too happy with this chapter.  You will soon find out why.  It's just ick.  But I do find the duck part mildly amusing.  That's all.  Anyhoo, on with the corniness.  ~sings~ CORNINESS!!!!!

Disclaimer:  Nothing is mine.  Only the sad excuse for a plot.  And the corniness.  The cookie betting is all Lallie's, but I'll talk more about all that when you know a bit more about it...  Oh yes, and this chapter is titled after a wonderful little essay we had to read for the English Diploma called _Going for a Walk_.  It had me giggling during the exam.  And the chick behind me was giggling too...  It's by Max Beerbohm.  You should totally read it if you can find it.

**The Truth About Trees******

**Chapter 13**

**Walkmongers******

~*~

            You know, I am surprised I got any sleep last night.  I was forced to bed after Ron made his little display of affection, as I mentioned before, but as soon as I lay down Draco instantly leapt to my mind.  I was going to go on a date with Draco Mallory in less than twenty-four hours.  I probably could have counted the exact amount of minutes if I had wanted to.

            But then something else had occurred to me.  If I had been in this situation a few months ago, I don't think I would have been quite so optimistic about this whole situation.  I would have probably had a few bitter and cynical doubts over the fact that over seventy percent of school relationships don't work out.  I think I said that before, didn't I?  But you know, now that I am in a situation where I can experience it, I don't really care.  Fuck the odds; I'll give them a run for their money. 

            I must have dozed off at some point along that tangent for the next thing I remember I was wandering through the halls of Hogwarts, opening random doors and looking into the rooms beyond them.  There were all sorts of weird things in there, but I can't really remember what exactly.  I suppose it couldn't have been that important then.

            Getting ready for classes didn't seem to take very long.  Neither did breakfast.  But it was when I went to classes that it all seemed to slow down to a crawl.  And I mean it was slower than a snail's crawl.  It was pathetic.  Every time I looked at the clock only ten seconds had crawled by.  Ten seconds!  Never ever was it fifteen, or eleven or anything else!  Well, except if I tried to ignore it, _then I would make it to about thirty seconds.  I hate clocks._

            But time always passes, as my Technical Dueling professor always says.  Well then he always adds that we may not.  At first I found it funny, but by the tenth time it really wasn't.  Here we are, waiting to leave his class, and he's telling us that we might not pass.  How kind of him.  

            Anyway, as I was saying, time passes and eventually I was walking to my last class of the day: Care of Magical Creatures.  And somehow I had managed to run into Sara on the way down.  Apparently she had Herbology at this time.  I forgot about that...  

            "So," she asked, clutching her books and grinning at me.  "When are we going to cut your hair?  And can we dye it blonde this time?"

            I stared at her, then grabbed my hair.  "Uh, I think I'll keep it for now," I said slowly, trying to hide a grin of my own.  "It's kind of fun."

            "Oh, of course," the said waving her hand.  "Tripping over one's hair is _always_ fun."

            "You've heard about that already?" I asked in disbelief.  I knew it wouldn't take long for my house to find out, but Sara as well?  News travels fast I suppose.  Well, not really.  It has been a while.

            "You wound me," she gasped in mock horror then frowned at me.  "And I also heard about Malfoy."

            "You did?" I asked, feeling stupider by the moment.  What's next?  A grunt?  "Who else knows?"

            "No one really," Sara replied, looking at me.  "And I can keep it that way if you want."

            "That would be nice," I said earnestly.  I wasn't quite sure if I wanted other people to know just yet.  It would be awkward.  

            "But I must say that I am impressed," she continued, getting a sort of dreamy look on her face.  She actually gets that a lot when she's thinking of something that amuses her.  "I never figured you as the bad boy type."

            "Well he's not that bad," I muttered, feeling my cheeks begin to burn.  Oh the humiliation.  And it's not like I blush that often anymore either!

            "Of course he's not," she cooed, patting my arm.  "He's just a misunderstood boy who only needs a hug to make everything all better."  Then she grinned wickedly.  "And you're just the girl to do it."

            "Shut up," I hissed, hitting her arm.  "You're just jealous."

            "Green with envy really," she replied and we both burst out into giggles.  

            Well that little incident made my so far long and drawn out day travel a touch faster.  But only just a touch.  Because here I am now.  Five minutes to go.  I never knew Care of Magical Creatures could be so boring.  Or move so slowly.  It was like Hagrid had somehow been slowed down and his speech was like listening to something drawn out for some stupid child.  I could swear that this watch is broken.

            "An' I want you all ter study extra hard tonight," he was saying.  I was barely listening.  I know I should have, he is a friend of mine and all, but I just can't.  Not when I'm so close.  "There's a pop quiz for yeh tomorrow."  The class groaned.  I turned my attention to what Hagrid was saying.  "I'll be lettin' yeh go early though," he continued, clasping his large hands and smiling as only Hagrid can.  "Off yer get."

            With a collective sigh the class began to leave, grabbing their stuff and beginning to gab as they headed back to the school.  I began to do the same, though my destination was the lake.  And I was early.

            "'Cept I'd like a word with yeh, Ginny," he called.  I turned around in utter surprise.  Why would Hagrid want to talk to me?  He had a rather worried expression on and I found myself frowning in curiosity.  After a moment I approached the large man and stared up at him in question.

            "How've you been?" he asked, twisting his massive hands about.  

            "Alright," I said slowly.  I don't know why, but this situation seemed so awkward.  "What's up Hagrid?"

            "Well," he began, wringing his hands harder.  "I jus' feel so terrible abou' Joe," he said in a rather rushed and depressed voice.  I opened my mouth to speak but never got the chance.  "I' was my job to keep him out of the forest but he still got in, the ruddy bastard.  An' then he got them Hufflepuffs an' I was so mad.  But then he got yeh, and I felt even worse."

            I stared at him.  Hagrid felt responsible?  It was my fault.  He didn't make me decide to sit by that tree.  Who knows, it could have been anything else that grabbed me from that forest.

            "Hagrid," I said softly, staring up at him in wonder.  I still find it hard to comprehend that he has such a huge heat when he is supposed to be something that is cruel and barbaric.  "It wasn't your fault.  I'm fine.  And I would never blame you for something like that.  It wasn't your fault."

            "Bu' I feel so awful," he said gruffly.  Without even thinking, I had my arms wrapped as far as they would go around the large man's waist and was giving him a hug.  A moment later he had his arms around me as well, giving me one of his near patented bone crushing hugs.  

            I was at the point where I didn't think I could breathe anymore when Hagrid finally let me go.  I stumbled slightly then stood straight, staring up at him with a smile.  

            "Well, I suppose you have places ter be, eh?" he asked, smiling himself.  I nodded and glanced down at my watch. Classes were over five minutes ago.  How does that work?  Time moved so slowly before and now it flies by?  What's with that?

            I said my goodbyes, and as I was leaving I heard Hagrid call for Fang.  I wonder if him and that other teacher from Baeuxbatons will ever hook up.  I don't know why that drifted into my mind.  Oh well.  I began to make my way towards the lake, but I could see no sign of blonde hair anywhere even though the wind had begun to pick up and was pulling at mine.  I must have resembled a large, red flag.  

            The walk towards the lake seemed to fly by, but I still could see no sign of the Slytherin I was supposed to meet.  Had he chickened out?  Was I going to end up standing here for hours by myself like some fool?  Why do I keep asking myself these questions?  Just stop it already.

            "I said to meet me by the lake, not by that big oaf," I heard someone sneer at me.  I turned about, but couldn't see anyone.  Then I looked up to see Draco frowning at me from a branch a few feet above my head.  I frowned back.

            "You better be careful," I sneered back up at him, squinting as the sunlight tried to hurt my eyes.  What ever happened to the gloom?  "I was in a tree when Joe got me.  What if he's taken a liking to blonde hair now?"

            "I highly doubt that," Draco drawled back, but it didn't take him too long to be beside me on the ground.  I couldn't help it, I just had to smirk.  "Shut up," he snapped.

            "Fine," I shrugged, and began to grin instead.  He glared at me.  "So," I finally said, interrupting our odd little glaring fight.  "Are we going to stand here all day and wait for something to happen?  'Cause I don't think anything will."  I hope.

            "No," he drawled, finally stopping his glaring.  "We are supposed to be walking that way towards the other side of the lake."  

            And so, we began to walk, side by side.  It actually wasn't that bad of a day.  There was a cool breeze coming off the lake and there were only a few vicious bugs.  Of course they went after Draco first.  It seemed that my newly elongated hair was a rather good bug repellent.  

            "So why were you talking to the oaf?" Draco asked, interrupting our silence.  Well, silence if you didn't include Draco's swearing at the bugs.  "Hagrid," he amended.

            I stared at him for a moment.  "He feels responsible," I replied, looking out at the lake.

            "Responsible for what?" he asked, frowning once again.  I swear that line is getting more defined lately.  

            "Are you that daft?" I sighed, trying to hold back a grin at his shocked face.  Well, as shocked as he could ever look, meaning his eyes seemed to get a touch wider than before.  "About the whole being kidnapped bit."

            "But he had nothing to do with that," Draco replied, still frowning.  He should really stop doing that.

            "That's what I told him," I said reasonably.  "Yet I have a feeling that he didn't quite believe me."

            "That is that guy's problem," he began, frowning at the trees now.  "He's too sensitive."

            "Well, I suppose that it's better than being too cold," I mused, not even really thinking about what I was saying.  Since when do I feel comfortable enough around him to do that?  I don't usually do that around anyone let alone _him_.  Must have been the rescue.

            "But at least when you're too cold you can stand up for yourself," Draco replied, his voice seeming to reveal that he was musing the same way I was.  And I would bet a hundred galleons, if I had that much money of course, that I knew exactly who he was thinking about.  And because of that I found that I could think of nothing better to say that wasn't stupid.  Once again we lapsed into silence.

            We continued to walk around the lake, getting further and further away from the school.  I am sure that if my brother could see us now, he would freak.  What was I thinking?  Allowing myself to be led into seclusion with the enemy?  But then, that's Ron for you.  Nothing but his own little world matters to him.  Has he ever actually considered what might be going through Draco's mind?  Has he ever-

            "Gah!" the guy I was thinking about interrupted the very thoughts that were defending him.  

            I turned to look at him, only to see that he was a few steps behind me.  Why you ask?  Because his fine, silver-blonde hair was caught in a tree.

            "I've been treeed," he said in a voice that I can't really define.  It was like a mixture of self-pity, embarrassment and perhaps a little resignation in there as well.  

            I stared at him and had to bite my lip not to grin, or laugh for that matter.  He looked rather pathetic really.  

            "Aren't I supposed to be the one who keeps getting my hair caught in things?" I asked, grinning just a touch as I reached up and tried to free his hair.  The tree really got him.

            "You do seem to be- OW!- doing that a lot," he said in a rather grudging tone as I pulled at the twig as gently as I could.  "You are almost coming off as a little ditzy."  Yank.  "Ow!  Ginny!"  

            "Opps," I said as innocently as I could.  He glared at me angrily.  "I got the twig out," I said shrugging, holding up the small hair grabbing culprit.  There were a few of his fine hairs hanging mournfully off of it, swinging in the breeze.  Grinning slightly, I reached up and smoothed his hair back into place.  I couldn't believe how soft it was.  It was like he had ripped it off of a baby's head and transplanted it onto his own.  "All better."

            "That wasn't nice," he said coldly, the pathetic look quite absent from his face.

            "I could put this back in there if you would like," I offered, holding up the branch once more and smiling.  It was a rather fake smile, but it worked nonetheless.  He narrowed his eyes.  "You know," I said thoughtfully, looking at his dangerous face.  Or at least that is what I was assuming it was supposed to look like.  He really isn't that intimidating anymore.  Well, he can be, but not right now anyway.  "You look like some kind of deranged bat when you do that."  This only made him narrow his eyes further.

            It was going to be an interesting afternoon.

~*~   

            I can't believe this!  I'm becoming a klutz!  Malfoy's aren't klutzes!  We aren't.  We don't trip, we don't stutter, we don't fall off broomsticks and we most _definitely_ do not get our hair caught in trees.  I don't know what's gotten into me!  First I end up sitting on her hair, and then I actually walked right into my bed last night.  I have a nice large welt on my shin to prove it.  And now I'm getting my hair caught in low hanging tree branches?  What's wrong with me?!

            Not only that, oh no, there's more.  I seem to have lost the ability to speak properly.  It now sounds like I have some sort of deranged slur that causes all words to sound incoherent and, well, retarded.  Like the intelligence has been sapped right out of me.  And remember how I was constantly complaining about my tongue speaking for me?  Well, I wish it would take over again.  That bastard is now just sitting there, laughing at me.  Apparently he can get me to this point, but he refuses to help any longer.  Damn him.  Since when is a tongue a "he"?  I'm insane.

            But you know, I think I have honestly discovered what the catalyst is for this insanity.  It's her.  Ginny Weasley.  Whenever I'm around her lately it's like the rest of me chooses not to function.  I must seem like an utter fool to her.  I don't even know why she bothers staying.  Why is she even walking beside me?  Oh, right.  I invited her.  Another example of my lack of proper speech.  It can be whatever you want it to be.  Who says that?  

            "So you and Colin seem to get along," her voice interrupted my thoughts.  I turned to look at her and she was smirking again.  Merlin I wish I never ever smirked in my entire life!  Then maybe she never would have picked it up.  

            "Camera Boy?" I asked.  She frowned slightly.  Great.  Another wonderful phrase by the one and only Draco Malfoy.  

            "Colin Creevey," she said slowly, her smirk fading only to be replaced with a grin.  I raised an eyebrow.  "What is it with you and refusing to say people's first names?  It's rather childish."  
            "Childish?" I found myself sputtering.  Since when do I sputter.  Control yourself man.  "It's a sophisticated way of addressing someone you don't know too well."

            "Camera Boy is sophisticated?" she asked incredulously.  Damn.  "Where did you grow up, Draco.  Or have you grown up at all?"  

            "So what are you saying?" I asked, frowning at her in my so called bat like way.  "That you would rather if I call him Colin?"

            "That would be nice," she said sweetly, beginning to grin again.  You know, if I'm going insane I think I actually _caught it from her.  I don't think she's too stable herself.  But then, she's taken to being around me.  Nutters._

            "Fine," I said without thinking.  Hurray!  My tongue has made a comeback!  But wait, did I just agree to- I hate you tongue.

            We once again entered silence, but it wasn't awkward.  It was actually rather refreshing.  You know the kind of silence where whoever you're with feels the way you do and you can tell.  That doesn't happen a lot to me, but it usually seems to happen around her.  

            "You know, it's funny," her voice once again interrupted our silence.  

            "What is?" I asked, looking out at the lake.  We were almost out of sight of the school.

            "How different you are in private."

            "What?" I asked, whipping my head around to face her.  I wasn't expecting her to start a conversation like this.  

            She brushed the long hair that the wind had blown into her face out of the way.  "You're so different," she explained and I just stared at her.  "Usually you're this cold bastard that you would think had no soul."  I made to protest, but she simply continued: "But once you get to know you, once you get you to feel comfortable you're a whole different person."

            "And this is a problem?" I asked, beginning to feel slightly trapped, though as to why I wasn't sure.  I had never really thought about how different I really would seem to her if I stopped acting as my father's son.  But I must be different.  It's really rather scary.  

            "No," she said slowly, looking past me into the trees.  "No, it's just odd."  She went silent for a moment and I all I could do was stare at her.  I had yet to see a reappearance of the regal image she had appeared to be in that cave.  Perhaps I never would unless I got her back into that cage and unconscious once more.  "Why do you do it?" she finally asked.

            I frowned.  What a stupid question.  "Because my father would disown me, Weasley," I said a touch colder than I had intended.  It's not her fault that my father's an asshole.  "He wants an heir to replace him one day, not one that lives his own life.  If I radically change to show signs of wanting the latter life he would panic."  I paused.  "And it's no fun when Lucius Malfoy panics."  It was true, but I had only experienced it once when I had tried to run away.  But I don't think I could ever relive that memory to someone else.

            "It's not fair," she said quietly, not looking at me, instead turning her face away to look at the trodden trail that we were walking on.

            "The world isn't a fair place, Weasley," I said bitterly, glaring at the ground now myself.  "I thought you of all people should have realized that by now."

            "I have," she said softly.  "Doesn't mean I want to agree with it."

            "Denial of far worse than the truth," I replied, just as softly.  My father always said that.  He hates idealism.  He hates a lot of things.  I wonder if he hates himself.

            We walked on still, falling into our longest silence yet.  This was more of a reflective one.  The kind where you know that your company is thinking furiously about something, but they keep it all to themselves.  And I found myself wondering just what she was thinking, much to my own surprise.  Since when do I care what someone is thinking?  I don't think I ever really have.  Even when I was my father's little son, I never really bothered with wondering what he thought of me, I always simply knew that he wanted me to be like him.  How egotistical of me.  How of him.

            "Draco," Ginny's voice interrupted my thoughts once more.  "What is that?"

            I looked up to where she was pointing.  It was our destination.

            "What does it look like?" I sneered slightly, catching myself.  No point in being caustic to her.

            "A picnic basket?" she asked as though the world had turned itself upside-down and then tossed her aside as it did several more back flips without her.  

            "Very good," I drawled, resisting the urge to grin.  "I can see that your eye sight is better than I initially gave you credit for."  She hit me.

            "Yes, I can see it," she sneered.  "But why is it there?"  

            "Why else?" I asked, finally allowing a smirk.  

            She went silent for a moment, seeming to need more time than usual to put one and one together.  I waited patiently, or as patiently as I could be expected to be.  We came to a stop before the large wicker basket.  

            "Oh," she finally said.

            I rolled my eyes at her, making sure that she could see it.  Even if this is all going on now, I should still be able to tease her.  A little.  Maybe even a few insults here and there, but nothing too harsh.  

            A wave of my wand later there was a green checkered blanket on the ground beside the large basket.

            "It just has to be green," I heard her mutter as she plopped herself down on the blanket, adjusting her skirt.  

            "Is there another color you would prefer?" I asked, sitting down myself between her and the basket. 

            "Yeah," she said after a moment.  "How about pink with purple polka dots?"  

            I stared at her.  "Right," I said slowly.  She stared at me seriously then broke into a grin.  Good.  I think polka dots would be a touch too far in the wrong direction.  I mean seriously now, polka dots?  

            Having nothing better to do, I began to pull food out of the basket, passing her a cup of pumpkin juice first.  She craned her head towards me, looking at the rather large stash of food.

            "Draco," she said suspiciously, narrowing her eyes.  "Where did you get all that food?"

            "From the kitchens of course," I replied, still going about my task.  

            "You didn't threaten any house elves to get it, did you?" she asked in a slightly concerned tone.  I frowned, but kept about my task.  What?  Was she taking a page out of Granger's book now?

            "If you mean threaten as in being evil and cruel then no, I didn't," I drawled, getting out the last of the food.  "I was as nice and polite as I could be."  It was true, I had been.  More so than I ever had in my life, much to my own surprise.  "But I think they thought my politeness was a threat and then I had to get angry so as not to disturb them.  They're more accustomed to that."

            "Draco!" Ginny said in a higher tone than usual.  "You can't say that about them!  They probably know more about you than you even know about yourself!"  She paused for a moment.  "They could even have an underground betting circle about what color underwear you are going to wear today!"

            Well that's new.  Imagine that.  Actually, I rather wouldn't.  

            "So what would they bet then?" I sneered.  "Cookies?"

            "You never know," she said in a slightly conspiratorial tone.  "Perhaps the meringue ones are the most treasured."

            "Why not gingersnap?" I asked.  There really wasn't any point in asking that.  But what if they were better viewed cookies than meringue?  Since when do I care about house elves and their tastes in cookies?

            "Because those are gross cookies," she replied off handedly.  "I don't even think that crazy one could like them."

            "Which crazy one?" I asked before I could help myself.  Crazy house elves?  They're all crazy as far as I'm concerned.

            "Dobby," she said simply, taking a sip of her drink.

            "Dobby?" I asked, chocking on my own.  I hadn't thought about that creature in ages.  Not since he was released from our family by Perfect Potter.  Not that I really minded.  I never liked that elf.  He smelt funny.

            "Yes, _Dobby," she sneered, looking down at her cup.  "The same Dobby who helped Harry save my life."_

            Well now.  That was out of the blue.  I guess they're right about a lot happening out of that place.  Funny that you can't see it though.  Who would have thought that the smelly creature could have had a part in saving Weasley's life though.  It's just bizarre.  Odd how the world brings everything together like that.  I suddenly have an odd urge to give that elf a hug, despite his peculiar scent.

            We lapsed into silence, again.  This one was a touch more strained, but not by much.  It seemed we were both content on just eating the food that was around us.  You know, I think it was a rather good thing that I mentioned that it was for Weasley and I, rather than just myself.  If their cries of: "Wheezy" were any indication, I would say that those creatures all like the Weasleys.  Merlin knows why.  But I think if they didn't there would be a funny taste to the food that would send me to the hospital wing or worse.  But let's not think about that, shall we?

            I think I was hungrier than I had expected to be, because there wasn't much left of the food.  It seemed that Ginny had eaten a fair bit as well.  Not quite enough to meet my standards, but it was better than that pitiful display at Christmas dinner.  But for the life of me I couldn't think of anything to say to get her to eat more.  My mother had always told my father when I was little that when I was hungry I would eat.  And hopefully that was true about her as well.  If I were to say anything though, I would most likely send her on the defensive and the whole afternoon would be ruined. 

            But things were starting to get awkward.  I needed to say something that didn't have to do with food or with house elves or anything else I could make a fool of myself by saying it.  In other words I could think of nothing.  So I did the only thing I could do: I kept my mouth shut.  And it wasn't that difficult of a decision when I realized the girl beside me was staring off into space towards the lake.  With a shrug I leant back and stared up at the sky.  Oh look, an elephant.  And it seems like it's chasing someone who looks suspiciously like Dumbledore...

            My cloud musings were cut short though as I felt a head suddenly place itself on my ribs.  I lifted my head up a touch to see Weasley grinning at me slightly.  Well, who did you expect it to be?

            "I suppose I should thank that elf then?" I asked, resting my head back on my arm.  Thank Merlin, I can speak!

            "Naw," she said lazily, shifting slightly, causing her to fly up into the air with the breeze off the lake.  I used my free arm and smoothed it down, not even thinking about what I was doing.  I left my hand in her hair.  "He only did it to save Harry," she said with a slight shrug.  "I was just a bonus I suppose."  I no longer want to hug that elf.

            "So why all the huffiness?" I asked, instantly regretting it.  Good one, now she'll just go all quiet again.

            "I dunno," she said with another shrug.  "It just reminded me of something else."  She said no more and I knew better than to press it.  Some things you just have to wait for the person to explain in their own time when they feel they want to.  I know I wouldn't want to be demanded of things I didn't want to divulge.  I probably got that from my father.  He would never tell me anything he didn't want to.  

            A few minutes later Ginny spoke again: "I see walrus."

            I focused on the clouds myself.  "I see a squid."

            "How do you get a squid?" she asked, tilting her head further back.  It tickled slightly, but I refused to show it.  Malfoy's are not ticklish.  "Well, I suppose if I squint my eyes like this, and imagine real hard."

            I rolled my eyes.  "You know, we're going to have to try and keep this a secret," I said, sill looking up at my squid shaped cloud.  As to why I would say that right now, I'm not quite sure.

            "What?  The squid shaped cloud?" she asked in confusion.  I bit back a snort.

            "No," I said slowly.  "Us, Weasley."

            "Oh," she said softly, I raised my head and looked at her.  She seemed rather disappointed.  "More secrets."  What does she mean- oh.

            "But this one is for us," I said quickly, brushing my hand against her shoulder.  "Not for anyone else but us."

            "Well, I suppose I can handle that."  She smiled slightly.  "But it's not like most people haven't figured it out yet."

            "What do you mean?"  It hadn't occurred to me that anyone else, save the Dream Team and Camera Boy might know.

            "Well," Ginny began slowly.  "We have been talking to each other all year pretty much, Draco."

            "So," I said defensively.  "I talk to a lot of people, doesn't mean I'm snogging all of them as well."

            "I most certainly hope not," she said sharply, elbowing me in the ribs.  I winced.  "But seriously, people aren't that stupid.  They can put two and two together."  She paused.  "Or they will."

            "Let's just hope that they stay stupid long enough that my father never finds out," I said darkly.        

            "Would he be mad," she asked quietly, staring up at the clouded sky again.

            "Most likely," I replied, not really wanting to tell her the truth.  Actually, he would most likely disown me.  Or at least threaten me in some terrible way.  Malfoys are not supposed to date Weasleys, as I have been trying to tell myself all year.  But then I don't even listen to me, why should I listen to him?  "But we don't have to worry about that any time soon," I added soothingly.  Gah, me using a soothing voice?  Since when?  Well, a few nights ago, but still!  "We'll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it."

            She nodded against me then fell silent once more.  I craned my head up to see that her eyes had slid shut.  I felt my own grow heavy.  It's odd though.  I don't think I ever would have thought of myself sitting on a picnic blanket eating food.  Let alone letting myself be used as a pillow.  It just never occurred to me.  And yet, it works.  

            All had been silent for a while, and I was beginning to get the feeling that the red head had fallen asleep.  Or at least I did until she screamed.

            She sat up fast and I sat up as well, that quick movement of mine returning, trying to see what was going on and holding on to her instinctively at the same time.

            "What is it?" I demanded, peering around.  Yet despite all my apparent ease dropping abilities, I couldn't see danger staring at us in the face.  "What's wrong?"

            "Something sat on me!" she said in panic, looking around for the sitting culprit.  I began to look around as well.  Then I saw it.  And let me tell you this: it was not what I expected.

            "It was a duck," I said flatly, looking at a slightly put out and ruffled bird, waddling away in what seemed to be a hurry.  But then, I think I would hurry if I had just been flung off someone's stomach.

            "A duck?" she asked weakly, following my eyes.  "Why would a duck sit on me?" 

            "Probably because he thinks you're quite a pretty sit-upon," I murmured, leaning my head into her neck.  Her pulse was pounding, was she really that scared?  I wrapped my arms around her tighter.  "And I must say he has good taste."

            She giggled, bring her hands up to clasp my arms and leaning further back against me.  "When did it all change?" she whispered.  "Why did it all change?"

            "What do you mean?" I asked, slightly puzzled as to what she was talking about.  Surely not the duck?  Which, by the way, had scurried its feathered self back to the water.  

            "Us, Draco," she said in a calm manner, squeezing my arm slightly.  I returned the gesture.  "You and I.  How did we go from constant bickering to calling each other by our first names?  To having picnics by the lake?"

            I stared at the top of her head for a moment.  She had really just voiced everything I had been keeping tucked away in my head, waiting for a more appropriate time to really thinking about.  I have a feeling it would have rotted there until it was too late.  But now that she mentioned it, I really wasn't sure.  Well, I was, but yet I wasn't.  We had been around each other so much, had certain things, important things, in common.  And yet it was still so odd.

            "I don't know," I finally replied truthfully.  "It just sort of happened."

            "Well that was the most unslytherin thing I think I have ever heard you say," she said coyly, drawing circles on my arm now.  It tickled and sent the hairs on them to stand on end.  This seemed to amuse her.  

            "Oh," I drawled, leaning my head so I could place my mouth by her ear.  "So I take it you have never heard me say Horsies then?  Cause that's what I call them, Horsies."

            "What?" she demanded, turning about in my arms to look at me.  "You're serious?"

            "Would I lie?" I asked as innocently as I could.  I actually don't much care for horses.  So you could ride them.  You can ride hippogriffs too, if you're willing to get your arm taken off in the process.  I still shudder at my stupidity back then. 

            "Yes, I do believe you would," she said, narrowing her eyes in a rather cute way.  Well, I suppose there's no stopping these words then, is there?  Cute, adorable, lovely, sexy.  What's next I wonder?  Marry me?  Let's not think about that.

            "Then you apparently don't know me as well as you seem to think you do," I whispered in her ear, trailing kisses along her jaw line.  "I would never lie to you."

            It's amazing how things like that just manage to pop out of my mouth without out me even realizing they were true.  But I suppose it is.  I wouldn't lie to her.  I can't.  Not unless it was a life or death situation.  And knowing this world there might be a few.  But until then, I will stay true to my word.  What kind of Slytherin talk is that?

            Her arms were around my neck then, but we never got much further for there was a loud: "Quack!" to my right.  Stupid duck.

            Ginny pulled away and stared at it, not moving her arms from their rather comforting position.  

            "What's wrong with it?" she asked me.  All I could do was glare at the stupid bird.  Well, you would too if it had just interrupted you.  "Do you think it's hungry or something?"  Or it's just a perverted fowl.  Deranged bird.

            Ginny pulled away from me then, moving towards the basket.  I almost said something but restrained myself.  No point in it now.  The duck seemed more important.  Retarded thing.  She rummaged around in the basket for a bit then pulled out the remaining slice of bread.

            "Quack!" the bird said once more.  I glared at it.  Not very intelligent, are you?  Stupid thing.

            Ginny ripped off a small chunk of bread and offered it to the bird.  In my opinion the creature was far too eager to accept food from her.  If I didn't know better...

            "Do you want to try?" she asked me, smiling a dazzling smile and holding out half of the last slice of bread.

            "What?" I asked incredulously.  "Feed the duck?"

            "No, feed the grass," she sneered, giving the bird another chuck of bread.  "Of course the duck."

            "But you'll just get a fat bird," I said helplessly.  Well that was sad.

            "Better a fat duck than a skinny one," she said pleasantly enough.  Of, if only we weren't on such good terms.  That would have been such a good opening to nearly a dozen insults.  But alas.  "Come on, you're not scared it's going to bite you, are you?  Cause he won't, will ya little guy?"  She was talking to a duck.

            "Fine," I muttered, taking the proffered bread from her hands.  I watched as she broke off chunks and gave it to the seemingly starved bird.  But where were the other birds?  Don't ducks travel in flocks or something?  Where were the rest of them?  I glanced around looking for a hidden army, but I couldn't see any.  Finally I broke off a chunk and Weasley had done and offered it to the single duck.

            It moved swiftly and I would have been startled if I had been by myself.  But I can't look as if I am scared of a duck in front of her.  That would do me no good.  She needed someone solid.  

            I looked over at her and she was smiling at me with approval.  It was almost worth it, feeding the stupid bird, just to see that in her eyes.  I don't think I have seen that in such a long time, not from anyone.  It made me want to hold onto her and never let go.  Ever.

            Yet as all things do, the bread ran out.  Yet the duck still looked at us expectantly.  So I held out an empty hand as though there was something in it.  Don't really know why though.

            "Don't tease it," Ginny said in a sympathetic voice, staring from my hand to the duck.

            "Why?" I asked, still going on with my act.  "It's not like it's going to do anything."

            It lunged.

            "Ow!" I yelped, falling back onto my ass and staring at the duck wide eyed, my hair falling in my face and making the scene seem even less real.  "It bit me!"

            "Well, what were you expecting?" Ginny asked, shooing the duck away and back to the lake.  "A hug?"

            "Yes," I muttered, but decided against saying anything more.

~*~

            I know I should have felt sorry for him.  That I should have showed him more pity, but seriously now!  He was trying to feed a duck air.  I think if I was a duck I would have done the same thing.  Though perhaps I would have taken a finger as well.  Yum, finger.  Ugh.  You didn't just think that, you cannibal.  

            Sudden memories of Christmas dinner ran through my head at the thought of the human eating first year.  The one Draco had warned me about.  It's strange how stuff like that can just resurface for no apparent reason.  But it's amazing how far the two of us have come since then.  Draco and I.  Seriously now.  From fighting to, well, loving.  How corny.

            I wandered up to my common room, seeing no real point in eating dinner in the hall.  I had already eaten.  It was rather surprising to see a picnic basket sitting there.  I must have proved it to him too for I just couldn't make myself at least sound a little intelligent.  But that's alright.  The food had been good, so he mustn't have ticked off the house elves too too much.  Or at all for that matter.  But why would I think he would?  Because he's cruel to everyone but me it seems.  Or perhaps not Snape, but that's different.  I think he sees him as more of a mentor type figure, even if he will never admit it to himself.  Or anyone else for that matter.

            I entered the Common Room, glancing wearily around for Harry, ready to give me another lecture.  He wasn't there, but there was someone else there.  It was Hermione.  And she seemed to be waiting for someone.  Great.  Let's just slip past her, shall we.

            As I attempted to do just that, the older girl turned to me, a tentative smile in her face.  Uh oh.  This is not going to be pretty.  Not pretty at all...

~*~

            It was absurd how well it had all gone.  Well, with the exception of that stupid duck.  I think I will forever hate those creatures now.  Thinks he can bite me, I'll show him, one day...  Ok.  This is a duck I'm talking about.  There is no longer any question about it.  I am completely and utterly insane.  As if to prove this further a little song is playing through my head.  One I actually haven't heard in years.  And for good reason too I reckon.

            Draco and Ginny sitting in a tree!  K-I-S-S-I-N-G!  You know, now that I think about it, that song has a lot of irony to it now.  Not that I ever dreamed it would.  Well, I suppose I should be grateful that it was simply about trees rather than something else.  Something worse that would really have us in a pickle.  But still, it is a disturbing song.  It's almost as if they knew.

            I bypassed the Great Hall figuring there was no real reason to eat for a second time tonight.  That would just make me fat.  Not that that's really a concern, but still.  So I headed down to the Slytherin dorms.  As I suspected there wouldn't be, there was no one there.  Good.  I wasn't looking forward to listening to their stupidity and having to pretend I am on that level.  Such prats.

            It was this thought that sent me up to my dorm room a touch early.  I got ready for bed, planning to get some reading done or something equally dull.  It's the easiest way to make yourself fall asleep, save hitting yourself over the head with something blunt of course.  However, my plan was cut short as I padded silently towards my bed as there was something already in it.  Well on it more like, but it was still there.  On my bed.  

            My father's owl.  

            It had a rather sinister looking envelope in its beak, yet as to how an envelope can look sinister I am not quite sure.  It just did.  I approached the owl slowly, not letting my eyes leave the letter.  What could it possibly be this time?  Actually, my father hadn't sent anything my way in a while.  No questions, no demands, no simple "fatherly" advice.  Perhaps this was all it was.  Yet somehow I had this feeling that it was more.

            I reached the owl and it looked at me darkly.  Merlin how I hate that thing.  Always have.  It tried to attack me once, but I'm not going to get into that.  

            I snatched the letter from the owl, glaring at it angrily.  It gave me an equally angry hoot then flew an open window in my dorm.  It was between Crabbe and Goyle's beds.  Stupid idiots, who leaves a window open all day?  You never know what can get in.  I looked down at the letter.  Like this.  This could get in.

            I opened the letter, scanning over the contents.  

            I felt sick.

            I was.

~*~

A/N: Ha!  Double cliffy!  ~laughs evily~  Sorry.  I am also sorry that it was so short, but I needed to cut it off here or it would have been far too long.  On with business... Ok, that whole bit about the house elves betting cookies is from my friend **Lallie**(She's under my fav author's list)'s story 'Through the Eyes of an Elf'.  It's a totally awesome story that is not only hilariously funny, but it's original too!  It's told from the perspective of a house elf!  I totally recommend it!  Ok, back to my own story here...  Back to lovely old Angst next chapter.  ~Does a happy dance~  What?  You didn't think I was going to leave it "happy" forever, did you?  I'm aiming for two weeks from now.  I want to get this all over and done with by Christmas.  Then I might even post a little present, but we'll see...  Now, off to the dentist.  Yippie.

Many many thanks to: **Darcel(What's not funny?)**, smprsgrrl**(That's crazy. It takes me like a week to read this thing. Bah on all you fast readers. :D)**, Grumpy1**(Ya, I had that in my head over the summer too. Which is why it landed in here. Bah. But why Q-Tips??)****, SkysTheLimit(Oh, I'm terribly clichéd I know)**, melshi**(Uh, I don't know... you'll just have to wait and find out... but my car is safely parked outside my house, so don't worry about that. Ok, that was sad)**, Hplova4eve, tulzdavampslayer**(Dear, you are starting to scare me...)****, Azalai(He wouldn't write Argh! He would just say it! Does your kitty have a name yet??)**, Dracoslover, pickel**(I've imitated it several times. It's fun. Actually you would say Guten Nacht. It means goodnight. Sorry, German everyday is not good for the brain)**, Tessa1(**Well, I have to stop sometime, so I can write new stuff...)****, Wow(Thank you soooo much for reviewing every chapter. I love when people do that because then I can hear how much stupider I got step by step. JK. And thanks for reviewing like everything else I got. You're great. :D)****, seekerpeeker(Sorry for making you late)**, Lallie**(Popcorn? So that's two analogies now... But yes, I still claim that your happy place is a scary place. Oh yes, WRITE!!)****, Cactuskitty(...right... ~runs away~)****, Clair(Ya, it helps get rid of my loneliness too. If you can't have real friends, create them. JK)****, alenchic(Four smilies, I feel special. :D)**** and ****Kaelin****.**


	14. A Changing Tone

Title: The Truth About Trees

Author: Tiny Q

E-Mail: one_legged_lesbian_seagull@hotmail.com

A/N:  Well, as promised, two weeks later.  This is the second last chapter.  ~nods~  But the final one is in need for some major revision so I don't know when it will come out.  The epilogue is pretty much done though.  And so is the present, but I won't say anything more about that.  Anyhoo, back to angst which makes me happy. Oh so happy.  It's easier to write angst when school is on.  Stupid stupid school.  And this time I have to pay to attend.  ~grumbles at the unfairness of it all~

Disclaimer:  I own nothing but the plot.  NOTHINGSSSSS!

**The Truth About Trees******

**Chapter 14**

**A Changing Tone**

~*~

            I stared at her.  It was all I could really do.  What was I going to say?  Stop smiling at me?  That just wouldn't do.  Yet she did seem rather nervous and a part of me was slightly happy about that.  I was making her feel that way.  I wonder what else I could make her feel.

            "Ginny," she finally spoke in a soft voice.  "Can I speak to you?"

            I stared a bit more.  She wants to talk?  Why now all of a sudden?  Why not a month ago, a week, a year?  But for whatever reason I shrugged.  "Sure."

            Her smile spread slightly and she glanced around.  "Why don't we sit down?" she gestured around the room to all the empty chairs.  I shrugged once more and we moved towards the chairs the trio usually sat in before the fire.  Or at least where they used to sit when they were all on good terms.  I felt a pang in my heart for the old days.  For the way Harry had been treated.  

            Then it occurred to me that I wasn't going to make it easy.  She hurt more than just me.  She had hurt her best friend as well.  And if this conversation was going to lead where I thought it was, I sure as hell don't want to be her friend again.  Not now, not ever.  But the way life goes I will probably accept some bull shit apology someway down the line.  Hopefully it will be a very far off time.  

            "So," she said slowly, looking anywhere but my face.  Then she met my eyes and I suddenly really didn't want to be here anymore.  Not one little bit.  "How have you been?"

            "Fine," I said simply.  As if I would suddenly spill everything about how my life is to her.

            "How can you be fine after that kidnapping incident?" she asked me, her eyes getting a touch larger.  "I would have been scared out of my mind."  She would have been too.

            "I don't want to talk about it," I said flatly.  The last thing that I need is for her to go and poke around Malfoy's rescue.

            "Ok," she said softly, seeming slightly taken aback.  Good.  She remained quite for a moment.  Obviously this wasn't going as she had planned, but I wasn't about to make it easier for her.  I didn't care.  "Ginny, what happened between us?" she finally asked, looking me straight in the eye.

            I stared back, slightly startled.  That was blunt.  "Things went wrong," I replied, shrugging a little.  Very very wrong.  

            "I don't see how," she said slowly, still looking at me.  How can you not?  "We just had a few little problems."

            "A few little problems?" I gasped despite myself.  "Hermione, you broke Harry's heart and used me to do it!  Then you went out his best friend, my brother!  And now you're trying to tell me that we had a few little problems?  Now let me guess, the next thing you are going to say is that it was somehow my fault as well!"

            "Well it was!" Hermione suddenly said sharply back.  I felt the anger in my chest rise so quick I would have been startled if I hadn't already been in a rage.

            "And how was it my fault?" I asked slowly, quietly.  I sounded like Snape when he gets beyond angry.  I suppressed a shudder.  I also would not let myself think as to how I had acquired that lovely ability.

            "You never tried to talk to me," Hermione said earnestly, her voice taking on that annoying bossy, know-it-all tone.  "Through everything you never tried to talk to me and sort it out.  So whatever you think I did wrong to you is just as much your own fault."

            "What?!" I burst out.  "That is complete and utter bull shit!"  I stood up, glaring down on her.  Sometimes being tall has its advantages.  She stood up as well, but I was still taller.  Ha.  "Did you ever think that I didn't want to talk to you?  That I didn't want to be reminded that I let what happened to me in my first year happen again?  That I was sick of feeling like shit when I was around you?"  She seemed slightly taken aback, and honestly, so was I.  I never really realized it.  Sure, I had told Malfoy something like that, but I never added that Hermione was the representation of it all.  Creepy.

            "Ginny-" she began, but I cut her off.

            "No, Hermione," I said sharply.  I glared at her for a moment.  "You know, it must be simply wonderful to be you, isn't it?  I mean you live with a clear continence, and if you have the slightest inkling that perhaps maybe something was your fault, you simply find a scapegoat and use them to rid yourself of any guilt.  What more could you want?"  With that I turned away from her and headed towards my dorm room.  Enough of this shit.

            "Don't you ever think of how I feel?" she demanded shrilly from behind me.  I turned to look over my shoulder.  She was crying.  Yet somehow, I couldn't make myself feel sorry for her.  Much to my own horror.  How could I not care when someone is in pain?  

            "You don't care about anyone else's feelings," I said coldly, surprising myself once more.  "Why should we care about you?  Talk to me when you grow up a little."  And with that I stood up a touch straighter and disappeared up the stairs to my dorm.  

            All the way feeling that I was a complete and utter bitch.

~*~

            This can't be happening.  This can't be real.  This has to be some sort of sick and cruel joke.  Yet I knew it wasn't.  This was real.  This was now.  This was disgusting.

            I had half a mind to burn the letter.  To destroy it and deny that it ever existed.  But I couldn't.  It would have larger repercussions if I did that.  Now I could do something about it.

            Without a second's more thought I tore out of my dorm room, letter clutched angrily in my hand.  People had started to fill the Common Room and I heard Goyle call after me as I shoved my way out of the portrait hole.  A moment later I was barreling down the hall, skidding to a stop in front of my destination.  I banged on the door.

            "Come in," a voice called curtly from behind the large oak door.  I shoved the door with all my might, taking out my anger on it.  It slammed into the wall.  Snape looked up at me with a mildly amused expression.  "Ah, Mr. Malfoy.  I was wondering when you would come to see me."

            "Shut up," I snapped, slamming the door shut with a slightly satisfying bang.  But not satisfying enough.  "What the hell is this?"  I threw the letter at him.  "And don't tell me you don't know," I growled.  "Because I know you do."

            Snape took the letter off the desk and smoothed it out and began read it.  I took that time to try and take a breath.  To calm down.  But how could I?  How could I when my father sends me something like _that_?  Sends me the order to _kill her.  To kill Ginny.  And Snape _knew_ about it._

            "I was hoping he wouldn't do this to you, Draco," Snape said, letting the letter fall back onto the desk.

            "You were hoping," I sneered.  "Yeah, well I can hope too you know.  I can hope that at that next meeting you go to, the Dark Lord realizes what you are and deals with you accordingly."  I glared at him, yet he didn't seem to be glaring back as properly as he should.  It made me angry.  "How could you let this happen?"

            "And what say do you think I have in all of this?" he demanded of me, suddenly frowning more than before.  "What did you expect me to do?  Demand the Dark Lord to go easy on you?  To beg your father to let you live your own life?"  He snorted slightly.  "If it were that simple I would have done it for you."

            I stared at him, thunderstruck.  He would have?  He would have stood up for me in such a way?  But, why?

            "Sit down, Draco," Snape said suddenly, gesturing towards the chair opposite the desk of him.  I numbly sat down.  "They have been planning this for months."  I opened my mouth in question, but he never gave me the chance to speak.  "Not with your involvement of course, but all the rest.  But when your father was tipped off about you _Gryffindor_ girlfriend, as he put it, something must have clicked in his deranged mind.  Now you are the symbol to start it all."  He paused.  "Well you and her death that is."

            "How can you say that so easily?" I demanded.  "How can you talk about her as though if she died it wouldn't matter?"  

            "I'm not," he said sternly.  "I am simply expressing the way they are seeing it all.  The way they are looking at you and her and the way they are going to use you both as pawns in their little game so they can get what they want."

            I stared at him, now more than ever wishing that my mouth would suddenly speak for me.  To tell the professor before me what he said meant to me.  How his playing both sides was worthy of heroism, despite what others might say.  Yet nothing came out, and all I was left with was to stare at him.  To realize that I had never seen the greasy haired man look so tired.  So worn out.

            "She means a lot to you, doesn't she?" Snape suddenly spoke. 

            I looked at him slightly startled.  He seemed to have a nostalgic look on his face.  In his coal black eyes.

            "Yes," I said truthfully, surprising myself once more.  I had just admitted to Snape what I couldn't even admit to myself.  Ginny did mean a lot to me.  More than anyone in my life ever has.

            "Hold on to her then, boy," he said softly, not looking at me any more.  I looked at him wide eyed.  "Don't make my mistake and let her get away."

            Well, if I hadn't had enough shocks for one day, this sure as hell would have taken the cake.  Snape had a love life at one point in time?  It's just bizarre.  

            We lapsed into silence once more.  What was I supposed to say?  Ask who she had been?  How she had gotten away?  Who had taken her?  I couldn't ask any of that.  Ever.

            "We should go over what you have to do," Snape said suddenly, pulling the silence away.  "You can't get it wrong."

~*~

            "Are you sure you're alright?" Colin asked me for the second time as we made our daily trip down to the Great Hall for breakfast.  It was rather touching that he was so concerned, but then he's been like this ever since he and Draco saved me.  Yesterday it was Malfoy, the day before Harry, the day before that my excessive problems with my hair.  Today: Hermione.

            "Yes, I'm fine," I said again.  Then something occurred to me.  "How did you find out about it, anyway?"

            "Well," Colin began slowly, frowning in his mock serious way.  "I guess Hermione was crying in the Common Room and Lavender and Pavarti were the first ones back from supper.  So they got the story out of her before she went up to her room.  Then the two of them told Seamus and Dean."  He was now holding his hand up, raising a finger for each person he spoke of, with the exception of Hermione of course.  "Then they told Neville who told Harry who then told me."  He paused, his six digits in the air.

            "Really?  You needed that many people?" I asked him sarcastically, not being able to help but stare.  "And here I thought you were better at the game than that.  I'm disappointed, Creevey."

            He sent me a dirty look, but seemed to choose not to comment.  He continued instead: "And Hermione must have told Ron because I guess he threatened everyone in his dorm that if they talked about what happened that he would personally throttle them."  He paused again, opening his mouth to say something, but never quite got the chance.

            "Hi Colin!" a chipper voice said from our right and we both turned to see his pretty Ravenclaw girlfriend heading our way.  

            "Morning sweetheart," he said in a chipper voice of his own.  I frowned at him slightly, but stopped when I saw the pathetic puppy look on his face.  It seemed a little out of place on him in my eyes, especially when he took the girl's hand and kissed her on the cheek.  She then turned to me.

            "Hi Ginny," she said in a voice that wasn't polite at all, but simply nice.  I stared at her.  She was being nice to me?  But she hates me!  How come she's smiling at me as though she doesn't though?

            "Morning," I replied and smiled back at her.  Well, I couldn't just stare blankly forever.  She would think me daft.  Or dafter than I actually am.

            "I was just telling Ginny that I'm lucky not to be in her brother's dorm room," Colin told his girlfriend.  "He threatened to harm any of his dorm mates if they told about Gin and Herm's little fight."

            "From what I heard it was a touch more than a little fight," the other girl replied with a slight giggle.  "Is it true that she started to cry?"

            I felt a slight pang in my heart at the memory but nodded anyway.  "Yeah," I replied, then frowned.  "You heard about that?"  

            The girl nodded.  "I think your painting told ours," she said with a smile.  "At the rate it's going about everyone will know by lunch time."

            Colin made an odd noise.  "You better be careful then, Gin," he said, turning to look at me with a concerned face.  "I have a feeling that you're next on Ron's hit list."

            "Just what I need," I muttered darkly, then looked determinedly at the curly haired boy.  "I'm eating with you today," I said firmly.

            "Why?  So that if he does come you can use me as a human shield?" Colin scoffed, grinning nonetheless.

            "Exactly," I said simply, returning the grin and causing his girlfriend to laugh.

            "Fine," he replied shortly.  "But tell me: did you really tell her to grow up?"

            Breakfast was pretty good as breakfasts go.  It was Friday again and you know how it is. Food tastes better at the end of the week.  I still hold that it is the prospect of freedom.  Even if it is only for a couple of days.  No matter though, it was good.  I had fruit loops.  Apparently we are now serving Muggle foods every now and then.  They were rather tasty.  

            But all things that are tasty must be eaten and I was soon making my way towards Potions.  Hastily mind you, so as not to get stopped by my brother.  Yet despite my hurrying, I was still the last one into that classroom, save Snape.  I approached my seat only to see Malfoy frowning at me.  

            I was startled at first until I realized what he was doing when he gave a small wink.  The whole secret bit.  This class was the only one we had together and we would have to be careful for there were Hufflepuffs abound.  And they seriously are the worst gossips in the school.

            "Late again, Weasley," Malfoy drawled as I shoved past him to get to my own seat.  I glared back.

            "Yeah well," I sneered, pulling my books and ingredients out.  "I only had your face to look forward to so as you can tell I had no real ambition to get here early."

            "Of course," he said smoothly.  "My beauty must intimidate you.  It must be hard to sit by me, must make you feel rather dull and, well, mundane."

            I let out a snort but never got the chance to retort as Snape chose that moment to walk in the door.  He didn't seem to be in a very happy moody today.  In fact, I don't think I have seen him this disturbed looking since Harry and Ron "accidentally" set the back of the potions room on fire.  But I won't get into that.  It would take far too long to explain.  Well actually it wouldn't but I don't feel like telling you.  All you really need to know is that Snape looked really pissed off.

            "We will not be creating a potion today," Snape snapped at us, causing most of the class to jump out of their seat.  Only Malfoy and I seemed unaffected.  "So put your ingredients away."

            We all did just that, and sat there waiting for him to explain our task for today.  

            "Theory," he said sharply, glaring at everyone.  Well, everyone but Draco and I it seemed.  I must have been imagining it though, why would he not take up an ample opportunity to glare at a Weasley?  "Chapters twelve through twenty eight."  I could tell the class was holding back a groan.  I was too for that matter.  Double Potions and we will be spending it writing boring theory?  Man, he was in a worse mood than I thought.  "And I want it in by Monday."  With that the greasy haired professor sat down in his chair, pulled out a roll of parchment and began to scratch away at it.  

            Glancing at Draco, who was glaring at Hannah Abbott, I pulled out my parchment and bright blue quill.  There is no real point to waste time. Why leave it for tomorrow when I can spend the class doing it instead?  But just as I opened my book I heard Draco say something.

            "Eh?" I whispered, pretending to work.  There was enough furious scratching going on that I doubt anyone could hear.  

            "I said," he hissed at me, doing the same as I was.  "That quill is an eye sore.  Remind me to get you a new one."

            I stopped flipping through my book and stared at him.  He's going to buy me a new quill simply because he doesn't like it?  That's insane.  But I suppose that's what you can do when you have a lot of money.  

            "But I don't want a new quill," I hissed back.  Then, making a point of swirling my apparently hideous quill before his face, I began to create my own scratching noises as I began to write out my theory.  Not seeming to want to attract attention to himself, Draco began to do the same.  

            It took me the first block of the double class to finish five chapters.  If I kept up this speed I might be able to finish it tonight.  Now wouldn't that be nice?  I think it would be.  But my ambitious plan was put on hold as I felt Draco's hand bump into my thigh.  I glanced down to see his hand clutching a piece of parchment.  Without looking, I reached over and took it, letting my hand linger on his for a moment.  

            I slid back in my chair, and propped my book and parchment up on the edge of the table so that no one could see my hands.  I glanced around.  No one had noticed.  Good.  Slowly I unfolded the parchment.

            _Tomorrow's a Hogsmead weekend, will you go with me?_

            Well, he doesn't wait to the last minute, now does he?  You know, my father always told me that I should never accept invitations for Friday evening after Wednesday.  I suppose the same rule applies with a Thursday and a Saturday.  But then he also said that I shouldn't just sit around on the weekends either, especially when someone invites me to do something.  What a double standard.  

            I scribbled a "sure" on the parchment and handed it back to him in much the same manner he had done to me.  He seemed to smile slightly at my single word then scribbled something down and passed it back as well.

            _Good.  Meet me at the entrance gates to Hogwarts.  We'll walk the rest of the way there together._

            I nodded slightly and smiled into my book for him.  I then attempted to finish my homework, seeming to have increased ambition to finish now.  Good.  I don't think I will be able to finish it tonight if I had wanted to.

            You know, that last resolution about my homework was probably a good one, because as soon as I got back to the Common Room at the end of the day, Ron did in fact track me down.  And we sat down and had a nice little sibling chat.  There was a surprisingly minimal amount of screaming and ranting and throwing of objects.  

            It seems to me that he is trying very hard to repair whatever damage happened over the year.  It's a little awkward, and not to mention annoying, but it's kind of nice to see the most stubborn and arrogant of my brothers trying to be humble.  Well not so much humble as apologetic.  I think I'll let him keep trying.  But it was kind of odd.  He didn't really get mad at me for what I had said to Hermione.  Oh sure, he was mad, but he didn't direct his anger at me.  I think he is really trying to come off as being a good brother.

            After all that, I actually managed to go to sleep, and wake up and get dressed.  Well the dressing part took a bit of time though.  I had to make sure that I didn't look too dumpy or too cheap.  But I managed to scrape past with a long-sleeved, baby-blue tailored shirt and a short black skirt.  I put my cloak on over top of that.  Ok, that part didn't look too great, but I'm glad I am wearing it now as I stand here.  It's rather chilly outside.  And I am now regretting not asking what time I was supposed to show up at for I have been here for quite a while already.

            I hadn't had that boring of a time getting here though.  It seemed that all the teachers were placing charms on the castle.  And I say this because they were all outside of it, scattered about, pointing their wands at it and shouting out magic.  Pretty big give away eh?  It was actually kind of interesting to watch, but I can't see them anymore.

            Which is why I am a touch bored now.  It's all just so dull standing here in the cold, staring at nothing really and watching laughing people walk past me.  I doubt it could really get anymore dull either.  No one around, with the exception of the passersbys.  I suppose it could get a touch more dull if I didn't know some of the people who did pass by.  They usually wave.  Perhaps if I simply begin to laugh hysterically then things would get a touch more interesting.  Well at least until Draco shows up.  That way when people walk past I can get some amusing looks.  Now that would be entertaining.  

            I was about to begin just this regardless of the absence of people but sadly never got the chance.

            "Been waiting long?" a voice drawled in my ear as this same someone wrapped an arm around me.  

            "No," I lied, letting my head rest against this same person's shoulder.  "And it's not like I would wait for you either Draco."

            "Harsh," he said, yet he increased his grip slightly.  I couldn't help but grin.

            Without saying another word, we began to walk into the small Wizarding town that was just a ten minute walk away.  My left arm was beginning to feel rather stupid so I let it snake around Draco's back and rest on his hip.  I think he was slightly startled, but he never said anything.  It feels weird touching someone there.  You can feel their bones moving as they walk.  

            "So what did you do Thursday night?" I asked him, not even realizing I had spoken or that I had needed to.  Guess I did. Perhaps I just wanted him to ask how my night was.  Perhaps I just wanted to tell him about Hermione.  What a selfish way to do it.

            "Thursday night?" he asked, his body stiffening slightly.  I frowned.  Why would he get all tense at a simple question like that?  I looked up into his face.  It was unreadable, yet his posture seemed to be rather hunched, nervous.  "Nothing interesting.  Just read a little."

            "Oh," I said simply.  Well, if he didn't want to talk about it I wasn't going to press it.  He could tell me when he was good and ready.  

            And so we continued to walk in silence, arm in arm.  I think it's nicer to have someone hold you when it's a bit chilly out rather than trying to wrap yourself in layers of clothing.  This way is much simpler, not to mention more comfortable.  Yet as we rounded a bend in the path and came into sight of the rather busy town, Draco did not let go.  I looked up at him questioningly.

            "What happened to the whole secret bit?" I asked him quietly, gesturing towards his arm.  He surprised me by pulling my body closer to his.  I was expecting it to be a lapse, but apparently not.

            "Forget about the secret," he whispered into my ear.  "It doesn't matter anymore."

            I stared at him.  How could it not matter anymore when it mattered two days ago?  Something was up.  He was nervous, shifty even, and now he doesn't care if people stare at us?  There is something definitely wrong.  If only I knew what it was though...

            "But Draco," I began, trying to pull away.  But he held fast.

            "Do you trust me?" he asked into my ear, louder than before, but not by much.

            I looked up at him.  He was looking at my face blankly, awaiting an answer.  I stared.  There was something in his eyes.  Something I don't think I have seen there before.  But I couldn't place it.  

            "Yes," I said slowly, still staring at him.  "Why wouldn't I?"

            "Just wondering," he said lightly, then he shrugged and dropped his arm.  Instead he took my hand in his and pulled it gently.  "Let's go get something to drink."

            It took a total of three minutes to make it to the Three Broomsticks, get drinks and find a seat amongst all the students.  It seemed like this was the place to be today, as it was packed full.  Probably the chilly and gloomy weather.  And people kept looking at us.  Looking as if to see why we were sitting together.  Why a Malfoy and a Weasley were getting along.  We ignored them.

            "So what do you think all the professors were doing outside?" I asked Draco after we had sat in silence for a while, studiously ignoring stares and points, trying to enjoy our butterbeers.  "They seemed to be up to something."

            "They're enforcing the guards and spells on the castle," he said simply, taking a sip of his drink.  His face was once again unreadable.  

            "How do you know?" I asked with one narrowed eye.

            "I asked Snape," he said simply, smirking at me slightly.  "Unlike some people at this table I am not terrified of the Potions Master."

            "I'm not scared of Snape," I said indignantly.  "He just doesn't like me so I give him no reason to pick on me."

            "I wouldn't say that he doesn't like you," Draco said slowly, narrowing his eyes slightly.  "Otherwise he never would have let you into the advanced class."

            Hmm.  Never really thought of it that way.  Oh well.

            "I guess," I said slowly.  "But aren't you scared of werewolves?"

            "What do werewolves have to do with Snape?" he demanded, his eyes going slightly wide at the fact that I knew.  I had heard it from Harry of course, who put two and two together back in his first year and other passing comments the Slytherin had made.  I had heard a few of these comments myself.

            "Nothing really," I replied with a slight grin.  "Except that he loathes one with a passion."

            "Lupin, right?" he asked, seeming to suppress a shudder.  I nodded and had to keep myself from giggling.  Lupin was such a nice man.  There was no reason to be afraid of him.  "I can see why Snape hates him so much."

            "You're so narrow minded sometimes," I replied, shaking my head and taking a sip of my drink.  Yum.  Butterbeer.

            "It has nothing to do with being narrow minded," he snapped.  "It has to do with being bitten and becoming a reject of society."

            "So why don't you start to try and make a difference for them now," I said lightly, smiling at him slightly.  "So that when you are bitten, it won't be such a big deal."

            He opened his mouth to say more, but then closed it in defeat.  "Damn you Weasley," he said darkly, glaring down at his drink.  I couldn't help but laugh at that.  He looked so miserable.  So comical even.  Like one of those little doodles of a tiny figure with a shadow cast on them.  

            He looked up at me, his hair hanging in his face.  "Nothing like hitting a guy when he's down," he grumbled and all I could do was grin back.  He glanced around then shoved his drink to the center of the table.  "Let's get out of here.  I don't know how much more of this," he gestured towards the people who all quickly turned their heads away, "I can take."

            I nodded, taking a final sip of my drink then stood up along side of him.  People continued to stare as we maneuvered our way out, and it took all my will power to not give them the finger.  Or yell.  Or attack.  Well the last one wasn't that hard, but still.

            The air outside hit us with a strong wind.  It startled me at how cold it suddenly was.  It seemed to have dropped ten degrees while we were in there.  We both pulled our cloaks closer to our bodies then began to stroll up the street.

            "So, where are we going?" I asked Draco as we passed the packed joke shop.

            "Dunno," he responded with a shrug, then turned and looked at me.  Well rather he looked at my hair.  He didn't really look at my eyes.  Before I could ask anything else, he had taken his wand out, and pointed it at my head.

            "Draco-" I began but never got the chance to say more as he sent a spell my way.

            Slowly I raised my hand to my hair to see that it had been put into a light bun, tendrils spilling out around my face.  And it was brown.  He had changed the color of my hair.

            "Draco!" I shrieked then.  "What the hell did you do that for?!"

            He shrugged.  "Just wondering what it would look like."

            "Well change it back!" I demanded, my hands on my hips.  I instantly felt like my mother, but refused to let them drop.  

            He stared at me for a moment then smirked at me.  I suddenly wanted to wipe that smirk off as I never had before.  

            "Just leave it for now, will you?" he asked, grinning slightly and pulling me towards him.  I glared but allowed him to do so.  

            "Fine," I huffed, still glaring.  "But could you have at least chosen a color that didn't make me look like Hermione?"

            "You could never look like her," he drawled, and I felt a pang of hurt.  He must have seen it though because he quickly added: "You're far too pretty to be compared to that chipmunk."

            "Oh," was all I could say before he had begun kissing me.  It was as rather deep kiss as our kisses go.  And I was just beginning to melt into him when I heard a pop.  I ignored it though but it didn't matter as someone called his name.

            "Draco."

            We both stopped, looking around for he source of the voice.  Who I saw made my heart stand still.

            "Father," Draco said simply, nodding at the older figure standing in an alley way but twenty feet away.  Draco's grip on me increased until it was almost painful, but I wasn't about to stop him.  It was rather comforting even if I knew I was going to get bruises.  

            Not knowing what else to do, I simply stared at the older Malfoy, getting the feeling that something was wrong.  Terribly wrong.  

            "Come here son," Lucius Malfoy drawled, sounding so much like his son it was almost scary.  Actually, it was scary.  And what was even scarier is that he looks so much like Draco.  Or rather Draco looked so much like his father.  The same pointed face, silver-blonde hair.  The same smirk even.  Yet Lucius kept his hair slicked perfectly back while his son let it hang about his face.  And his own face had far more wrinkles on it.  No laugh lines though.  I suspect they were sneer lines if there is such a thing.  

            Draco hesitated.  I could feel in his posture that he was far past nervous now.  I reached back slightly and grasped his hand tightly.  

            "There is no need to stand there like a fool boy.  I am not going to hurt you," Lucius said a touch more sharply than before.  It was subtle, but regardless, I still felt Draco wince.  

            Draco shook his head slightly then strode towards his father, taking me with him into the seclusion of the alley.  Lucius looked even more menacing close up.  I repressed a shudder.  He was looking at me.  But unlike the people in the Tree Broomsticks who were mainly curious, his look was full of lathing.  I stared back though, trying hard not to look away.  To not show the fear that was steadily building inside of me.

            "I see that they were right about the Gryffindor," his father said to him, looking away from me and staring at his son instead.  I looked up at him, but he seemed to be avoiding my gaze.  I felt something jump in my stomach.  Something was really wrong.  Something was really really wrong.  And Draco knew about it before we left.  That's why he had been so awkward.

            "Yes father," Draco said simply and I felt my eyes grow wide.  I am just a "Gryffindor" now?  I tried to let go of his hand, but he only held on tighter.  

            "Good," Lucius drawled, looking at his son with something that could only be pride.  I suddenly felt sick.  What the hell was going on?  He then turned his cold grey eyes on me and I could do nothing but stare like some animal caught in a light at night.  "I can see why you would choose her though," he said, his eyes traveling up and down my body.  

            I shrunk back.  I felt dirty.  I felt that I had to get away.  Yet Draco's hand was gripping mine even harder now.  Any harder and I had a feeling it would break.  Why wasn't he doing anything?  Why was he just standing there?  Why was he letting his _father look at me like that?!_

            "Well I suppose all I can say is that it's a relief that she wasn't a Weasley, Draco," Lucius said coldly, then began to laugh a terribly cruel laugh.  What does he mean by that?  Can't he tell by the red- my hair's not red anymore.  I felt panic now.  Something was really wrong.  Something was really not right.  I tried again to get my hand out of Draco's.  But it was like trying to pry apart a metal crate with a banana.  

            "Yes, father," Draco said flatly, staring straight ahead as though he was too ashamed to look down on me.  But why would he be?  All he has to do is run away.  To take me with him.  Just like he did with Joe.  That's all he has to do.  That's all.

            "Well," Lucius finally said, clapping his hands together.  Both Draco and I jumped slightly at the sound, but Draco's face remained emotionless.  "I suppose we should get this over with.  You know what to do, son."

            Know what to do?  What the hell did that mean?  My heart began to pound.  What the hell was going on?  Then Draco pulled me around to face him, gripping my hand even harder, yet the sudden pain in my hand didn't matter anymore.  He pulled me closer and I looked up from my hand into his eyes and felt my pounding heart stop.       

            His eyes were hallow.  As if nothing mattered anymore.  I tired to pull back, but couldn't.  He was too strong.  

            "I'm sorry," he whispered softly and I felt fear like I have only ever experienced around Riddle grip me.  What did he mean by-

            I didn't even realize that I had screamed until I closed my mouth and tasted blood.  I slowly looked down to see the hilt of the knife in my left side, clutched in Draco's hand then looked back up to stare into those hallow eyes, those large and blank eyes.  Then he pulled it out and I had to bite my tongue not to scream again.  I wouldn't give him the pleasure.  I wouldn't give it to his father.

            I felt myself slump forward into the one who I had trusted.  Who I had thought was different from what everyone saw of him.  The one who I had thought was better than what he made himself seem.  

            But I realize I was wrong.  I was wrong for the second time in my life.  And there was no Harry Potter to save me this time.  This time I was going to have to pay the price for my blindness.  For my trying to see something that truly wasn't there.  For ignoring my brother's warnings.  

            Without a sound, I felt my body go limp.

            Not for the first time this year everything went black.  

            For the last time.

~*~

A/N: Mwa!  Mwa ha ha ha!  Ha ha ha!  Hee hee !  ~ehem~  Ok.  Enough of that. 

Many thanks to: **SkysTheLimit**(I had to write an essay on why cannibalism should be allowed. It was fun)**, alenchic**(Well, I suppose I can put some more in in the end...)**, tulzdavampslayer(Oh, that's priceless, but you really shouldn't do that to your brain. It might come in handy someday)**, smprsgrrl**(What are you talking about? Ducks are evil!)**, o0true0o, Tessa1(**If you liked the cookie bit you should really read my friend's story. It's better than my attempt to imitate it)**, wow(**How could I not when you reviewed like everything?! Thanks again for that)****, Nerwen Faelvirin, Hplova4eva, LadyBex, RosyCheeks, Azalai(I loved how the animator fell, and yes, I had SO much fun at the dentist. Then my friend came over and laughed at my inability to speak)****, Furnikle(I like being evil. It makes me feel better about myself. You should throw your keyboard at your teacher. It would be fun until he figures out who did it...)**, Lallie**(Actually, it's pathetic. And I disclaimed your idea. Twice! So there. Free advertising.)**, cashew(**Perhaps he should... or get his own little spin off one shot...)**, Lady Coia**(But that's the one thing I love to write! Cliffys are so much fun!)****, Darcel(But I think it might be funny...~grin~)****, Jade Summers, Ambrosine and **littlebluebanana**(Well, I'm my own beta. And I'm not perfect. But I will be putting up edited versions when I am finished, cause I realize my mistakes after I post. Bah)**.****


	15. Multiple Questions with Fewer Answers

Title: The Truth About Trees

Author: Tiny Q

E-Mail: one_legged_lesbian_seagull@hotmail.com

A/N: Sorry that this didn't come out in two weeks but I decided to hold it back a little.  See?  Now the last chapter comes out on the one year anniversary!  Isn't that wonderful??  Oh shut up.  I still can't believe I have been writing this for a whole year!  And it's so long!  Longer than anything else I have ever written.  But I am rather proud of it...  Anyhoo, enough rambling.  I'll just let you read shall I?  Oh!  Just so you know, I have been reading _Frankenstein for school lately so if this seems a little over dramatic that's why.  Stupid gothic novel, but I totally recommend it.  It's an awesome book!_

Disclaimer:  Nothing is mine.  I own nothing.  I am poor.  I'm a starving student.  But I do claim the plot as my own, even if nothing else is...

**The Truth About Trees******

**Chapter 15**

**Multiple Questions with Fewer Answers**

~*~

            I looked down at the girl in my arms in horror.  How could I have done this?  How could I have stuck my filthy knife into her like she meant nothing?  How could I have done this?!

            Remembering myself, I had to try my hardest to keep my face, my posture, looking cool and collected.  But seriously, how could anyone be cool and collected in a time like this?!  I had just killed her!  I killed the only one who ever took the time to see the real me.  The me everyone else is convinced does not exist.  And I killed her.

            "I'm impressed," my father's voice drawled, drawing me back to reality.  To the situation at hand.  "I honestly didn't think you were capable of it.  I honestly didn't think you were strong enough to do it.  I guess you really are full of surprises as your mother always says."

            You have no idea.  You have no bloody idea you fucking bastard.  But I didn't say any of that.  I couldn't say any of that.  

            "Well now, I suppose I shouldn't keep you," Lucius said in a cheerful tone.  I felt sick.  Sicker than I had before, but I managed to contain myself.  Did he really whiteness this sort of thing often enough that it didn't affect him in the slightest.  That his son becoming a murderer was something to be cheerful about?  

            He walked towards me then and clasped my shoulder, completely ignoring Ginny's prone body which was draped limply in my arms.  "Once this whole ordeal with the school is cleared up we will give you what you deserve."  He tapped my arm then he stepped back and stared at me, seeming to swell with pride.  "I have never been more proud of you, my son."

            I nearly choked I felt so sick.  How could he be _proud of me?  How could he be so fucked up?  How could I have never seen that he was this far gone?  _

            "Thank you father," I said softly, trying my hardest to keep the vehemence out of my voice.  I couldn't break now. Not yet.  I would ruin everything.  For everyone.  "You have no idea what that means to me."

            "Now," Lucius said after a moment, seeming to savor my last sentence.  "Take that carcass up to the school.  I will see you again soon, Draco."  With that the man who looks far too much like me Disapparated with a small pop.

            I stood there for a moment, completely lost.  How the hell did this all happen?  How the hell did I end up with a father like that?  A complete and utter psychopath?  Why am I still standing here?  

            Looking down at the red head gone brown I felt urgency in my heart, stronger than ever before.  The blood on my hands only seemed to encourage it.  Her blood was on my hands...

            Pull yourself together!  Put the knife away!  Get out of here!  You're going to fuck up everything if you just stand here all day!

            And with a bit of a jolt, I leapt into action.  I sheathed the knife my father had given to me years ago then scooped Ginny into my arms.  I was thankful now more than ever that the girl hadn't been eating much this year.  That she was paper light.  Because if she hadn't been I don't think I would have been able to run quite as fast as I did.  

            And run I did.  I darted through the back alleys of Hogsmead as fast as I could and before I knew it I was on the trail leading back to the school.  The same trail that I had walked with her but hours before.  Just thinking this gave me the energy to run faster, her body all the while limply bumping about in my arms.  

            Everything slipped away but my destination.  But Snape's words: _Ten Minuets, boy.  That's all you get until it's too late for her.  I couldn't let it be too late.  I couldn't.  Nothing mattered except beating those minutes.  Those quickly evaporating minutes._

            So when my lungs felt like they were burning and my legs felt that they were going to stop functioning and my arms felt they were going to be ripped off by Ginny who was getting gradually heavier, I forced myself to run on.  Run, run, run, run!  Draco run faster you bloody idiot!  Faster!  

            A moment later the school came into view and I felt my heart soar.  I was here!  I was here!  It would all be better now!  I was almost to the concrete that she had shoveled all those months ago when I heard someone scream.  A moment later a red headed figure came charging towards me.  A second after that I felt my nose break.

            "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO MY SISTER YOU BLOODY DEATH EATER?!" Ron Weasley screamed at me as I faltered, trying to keep Ginny in my arms.  I couldn't drop her.  I wouldn't ever drop her.  She trusted- trusts me.  I can't let her down.

            "Get out of my way," I growled, shoving past him, minding Ginny's rag doll like form.  Nothing mattered but the doors that were only twenty feet away.  Not even the bloody Dream Team. 

            Without waiting for a reply, I ran faster than before to the Main Doors and they flew open.  I don't think I will ever figure out how I managed to make that one happen.  I rushed inside and they slammed shut.  The moment they closed Madame Pomfrey rushed forward, a stretcher in tow.  

            I'd made it.

            "You have to give her to me, boy," the matron said earnestly and it took me a moment to realize that I was clutching the girl to me as though my life depended on it.  But it did.  I need her.  I really do.  

            "Sorry," I mumbled, carefully placing her on the proffered stretcher.  A moment later she was rushed off at a run to the hospital wing.  Then Snape and Dumbledore approached from where they had apparently been along the sidelines.  

            "Did Lucius do that to you?" Snape asked, looking intently at my face.  There was something there.  Concern?  

            I raised a hand to my nose.  It was bleeding quite profusely.  Now my blood was mixing with hers.  The blood that had been on my hands.  It had been an act that I remember thinking of with disgust when this all started.  But now, now it didn't matter.  "No," I said slowly, everything coming back into focus.  My target reached, everything I had made fade was coming back.  In a painful way.  "That was her brother."

            "Mr. Weasley?" Dumbledore asked, and I looked at the old loon to see worry in his eyes.  "Take him to the infirmary, Severus," the old man said then turned towards the doors I had just entreated through.  "I have a feeling the two of them are in a right state."

            Snape nodded then gently clasped my shoulder.  I would have been surprised but I was past the point of caring.  I had killed the only one who had ever cared about me.  I was covered in her blood.  But I had gotten her here.  I had gotten her here, past her brother, past Granger, past the doors.  

            "Let's go, Draco," Snape said then began to lead me off to the destination in which Dumbledore had told us to go.  

            We walked in silence for a bit.  But I couldn't stand it.  I didn't want to hear everything that was going on in my head.  I didn't want to keep seeing the look of utter hurt and betrayal on her face when she had fallen...

            "Did you have to do that?" I asked quietly, beginning to get annoyed at the fact that blood was splattering everywhere when I spoke.  Snape silently pulled out a handkerchief and drew it up my face until it was sitting underneath my nose.  I raised a bloodied hand of my own and held it there.  

            "Yes," Snape said after a while, and I turned to look at him.  But the shock that should have gone through me never came.  I suppose I have been through too much today already.  "I am beyond ashamed to say I did."

            "Oh," was all I could seem to manage at the moment.  Then something occurred to me.  Something that in a right mind I never would have even dreamt of asking aloud: "Was it her?"

            Snape stared at me, his void black eyes seeming to probe me.  Then he looked away.  "No," he said firmly.  "I gave her up to someone else."  He looked darkly at the ground.  "But they got her anyway.  Eventually."  He paused again.  Longer this time.  And I couldn't bring myself to say anything.  "I didn't know my initiation."

            The silence hung again.  Thicker than ever.  

            "Will she be aright?" I asked finally, looking down.  I didn't want to hear the answer.  What if I didn't like it?  What if I hadn't made it on time?  What if I had failed her?  But the question had to be asked, regardless of whether I wanted to hear it or not.

            "I can't make you any promises, Draco," Snape said after a moment.  I stared at him.  "It was a risky move."

            "What?" I sputtered.  "You didn't say- you said- she has to be alright!"

            Snape was spared responding to my demands, as the Hospital Wing's doors came into sight.  Without thought I ran towards them, wanting only to be in there.  And it was the only thought on my mind.  Everything else seemed to drop away once more.

            "Draco!" Snape called sharply, but I ignored him and shoved the doors open.

            I came into the room, looking wildly about.  There was no one in there.  All I could see that was out of the ordinary was a set of hangings about a bed at the end of the room drawn around their bed.  I felt my heart stop.  She had to be behind them.  

            The door opened behind me and I glanced back to see Snape walk in, a frown on his face.  He opened his mouth to say something, but never got the chance for he was suddenly clutching at his forearm.  I watched silently as his eyes widened slightly and his frown deepened.  I would have to suffer through that if I let father have his way.  I would be just like him.

            "I have to go," he told me, his eyes seeming to try and tell me something.  But I didn't completely understand until he looked past me to the hangings around the bed at the end of the room.  I nodded slowly, feeling as though I was in some sort of terrible dream.  A terrible nightmare.  

            With a nod of his own, Snape turned and strode out of the room, his robes billowing behind him.  I stared at the doors as they swung shut, feeling numb all over.  I didn't want to turn around.  I didn't want to see what was behind those hangings.  I didn't want to see what I didn't want to see.  

            Taking a deep breath I forced myself to turn around.  Slowly I walked towards them, ignoring the fact that my feet were so loud, or that time was seemed to stand still.  That everything on me seemed to hurt.  Coming to a stop before the suddenly too white hangings, I swallowed and reached out a shaking hand.  

            What if she wasn't behind here?  What if she was somewhere else?  I realized this was stupid.  Where would she be?  But then the real reason I was hesitating popped into my mind: What if she was dead.  Not killed, but dead?

            Swallowing thickly and tasting blood, I pulled back the hangings, making them less white than before.  What I saw made me stop.  My hand dropped, the handkerchief falling with it.

            She was back.  That image of the regal woman I had seen in what seemed like ages ago, she was back.  Yet she was lying on the bed this time, ornately placed as though resting in a glass coffin to be forever treasured for her beauty.  For her unnaturally long red hair that lay in waves about her.  For her deathly white face and pale lips.  

            I blinked.

            Letting go of the hangings I deftly walked forward.  Toward the regal image of the woman I had sent here.  The woman I had killed.  Yet as I approached she seemed to fade back to reality.  Back to the girl I knew.  Back to Ginny.

            She looked so pale.  Paler than she should have been.  And the hair that had been returned to its original color seemed to make her complexion even paler.  Sicklier.  Deader.  But her chest was rising a falling with the steady breaths of the sleeping.

            "I'm so sorry," I whispered softly.  The words startled me.  I hadn't been ready to hear any sound.  I was kneeling beside her now, my eyes still fixed on her face, my hands searching for one of hers.  "I am so sorry, Ginny."

            My hands finally fumbled onto one of hers, but it was covered in gauze.  I looked down in surprise, then I remembered something that increased my guilt.  I had broken her hand as well.  I snapped my hands back as though she had burnt them.  

            How could I have done this?  How could I have let my father push me around?  How could I have let myself become the instrument I always feared to be?  How could I have brought her into a Death Eater plot?  How could I have even thought that I could have gotten away with being happy with her?  How could I have played with her life?  Why didn't I realize things would only lead to sorrow?  Why can't I just have a normal life?  I never should have gone near her.

            "Mr. Malfoy," a voice said sharply to my left and I turned, startled, to see Madame Pomfrey frowning at me.  Her eyes seemed to soften however when they fell on my face.  "You shouldn't be in here."

            "Is she going to be alright?" I asked, ignoring what she had said.  I found myself staring at her as though she held my life in her hands.

            I felt my chest tighten as she gave out a short sigh.  "Yes," she said softly, smiling at me slightly.  "She is going to be just fine."  I felt my heart heave and all the tension that had been within me dropped away, leaving my body to shake as though I had just fallen off a high building, only to awake from a dream.  "You got her here in time."

            My body slumped to the ground and I found myself leaning against the bed, my legs sprawled out before me.  I dropped my head into my hands in sudden exhaustion, then winced as they touched my nose.

            "Let me see that," the old woman said, coming towards me.  She crouched down next to me and carefully pulled my hands away from my face.  I looked at her, feeling suddenly that I could sleep for an age and a half.  I had made it.  I had gotten her here in time.  She was going to be alright.  

            Madame Pomfrey took out her wand, and a tap later the blood had stopped flowing and was absent from my face.  She then tilted my head and examined my nose.  It didn't even bother me.  Actually, it barely phased into my mind.  Nothing really mattered anymore.  She was safe.  She was going to stay safe.

            "I think I have just the potion to fix this up," she said finally, gesturing towards my nose.  Before I could even think of uttering a word she had stood up and with a flick of her wand, I felt myself float up off the ground.  I couldn't quite bring myself to care though.  I was already far enough gone with my guilt and my exhaustion and my relief, that it didn't matter.  She was safe.

            A moment later I touched down on a bed beside Ginny's that was enclosed inside the hangings.  If I didn't know better I would say that the matron had planned this.  But really, why would she?  I watched her as she walked away, into her office.  Why is she being so nice now?  A few months ago she was poking and prodding and sneering at me as if I was the devil's child himself, and now she's being all, well, matronly.  It's just odd.

            She returned a moment later, a steaming goblet in her hands.  She offered it to me and I simply stared at it.

            "I want to be there when she wakes up," I said, staring at the woman, knowing I must have seemed like a small child.  It didn't even occur to me to keep my guards up.  This was how far gone I was.  

            "You have no need to worry," she said in a slightly exasperated tone.  "She won't wake up for quite some time.  But you need to rest."  

            I felt my head nodding daftly, and I took her proffered goblet.  It wasn't that foul tasting really.  Ok, maybe it was, but I didn't really care.  After depositing it back in her hands I felt my eyelids grow heavier.  I know it wasn't from the potion itself, but it was just out of sheer exhaustion.  As soon as my eyes slid shut I drifted off to sleep.  Sleep where I saw my father's proud face laughing at me as he made his next move.

~*~

            I felt incredibly warm as I felt myself waking up from my dreams.  They were odd dreams too, jumping from one perspective to the other.  But I think the most disturbing of them all had been that Slytherin first year, you know the one I suspect of cannibalism?  Well, he was standing at the foot of my bed, just staring at me like he had at Christmas Dinner, and then he had said: "They're going to kill you, you know.  And your two timing boyfriend."  The dream had shifted then.

            I stopped.  My two timing boyfriend...

            I wasn't supposed to be dreaming.  I wasn't supposed to be _alive.  Draco had killed me.  He stabbed me with his knife.  He drove it into my side, all the while staring at me with those blank eyes.  Just thinking about it brought the memory to my mind's eye.  But I couldn't be seeing this if I was truly dead.  Ghosts can't dream.  Or can they?_

            I slowly opened my eyes, not quite sure I was going to like what I was going to see.  Had the Death Eaters captured me and kept me alive to torture me for information?  For leverage?  Or was I still lying in that alley?  But why would I be warm then?

            The white of the Hospital Wing greeted my eyes and I sighed with relief.  I had been saved.  I had been taken away from him and his father.  I had been rescued.  But by who?  Surely not Harry?  Then my eye caught at a person sitting in a chair beside my bed, staring at me.  I felt my blood stop.

            I jerked into a sitting position and he moved forwards with that damn quickness he seems to posses.  How could they let him in here?  Don't they know what he did to me?  What if he tries to finish the job?  Don't they care?!

            "Don't move too much," he said in concern, but I didn't listen.  He put me here.  He stabbed me!

            "Don't touch me," I hissed, looking pointedly at his hands that had been moving towards my shoulders.  I saw hurt flash through his eyes.  Good.  Maybe he can feel some of my pain.  Know what it feels like to be betrayed.

            "Ginny," he said, retracting his hands slowly as though he wasn't quite sure if they were his own or not.  "Don't-"

            "Don't what?" I snapped, trying to clutch the blankets to my chest, only to discover that my left hand wasn't moving.  I stared down at it.  He broke my hand too.  And my heart.  "You stabbed me!  I trusted you and you threw it back in my face like it meant nothing to you!  How dare you?  How could I have ever thought that there was something in you other than darkness and festering evil?"  My voice dropped.  "How could I have trusted you..."

            He moved forward then, fast, grabbing my shoulders and turning me to stare at him.  Then he shook me.  Hard.

            "Listen to me," he snapped, glaring into my eyes.  I had never seen him look so distressed before.  It was startling.  Especially how fast the expression had popped up on his face.  "If I didn't do what I did they would have actually killed you and me in turn.  There was no room to fuck around, Ginny.  You were who they wanted dead before it all started, and if it hadn't been by my hand then my father would have stepped in and done it for me."  He dropped his head, his eyes diverting from mine.  "And his knife wouldn't have just put you to sleep.  I couldn't let that happen.  I need you."

            I stared at him, feeling as though my mouth should be hanging open.  The Death Eaters had wanted my death before it all started?  What started?  Is that why his father had been there?  But how had Draco known?  What does he mean put me to sleep?  Questions like this tore through my mind and I was beginning to think that they would never stop until three words shouted above the din:  He needs me?

            "Why?" I heard myself ask before I could stop myself.  Draco's head lifted up slowly and he looked me straight in the eye.  All I saw there was sorrow and love.  It was an odd combination but it was there none the less.

            "Because you are the only one who sees the real me," he said in that soft voice of his.  "You are the only one who has ever given a damn about finding out who I really am."  He paused.  "And I love you."

            I just don't get it.  I really don't.  How can he go from stabbing me, to claiming it was for my own good, to proclaiming his love for me?  And why am I falling for it?  I should be slapping him right now.  I should be telling him to shove off and leave me alone for the rest of his miserable life.  But somewhere inside my soul I know he's telling the truth.  That he did something that cost him much just to save me.  That what ever happened is about to cause the shit to hit the fan, but he had done what ever it had been for me.  For me.

            "I love you too," I whispered back, staring at him as though through a new light.  He was covered in blood.  He had huge smudges under his eyes.  And his nose was slightly crooked.  What had happened to him?  What had they done?

            His arms slid from shoulders and settled themselves on my back, drawing me into him.  He buried his head into my neck and hair and seemed to inhale all that I was.  I found myself clinging to him with my good hand as though he was my lifebuoy in a turbulent storm, and I had never felt so safe in my life.  Never so loved and protected.  How could I have found someone like this?  Someone who was willing to risk his father's wrath, his life, to protect my own?  How could I possibly be so lucky? 

            But he pulled away after a minute or so and held me at arms length, looking into my eyes.  "Now listen Ginny, and listen closely," he said, staring at me intently.  "What happened had to be done.  If it didn't you wouldn't be here.  I need you to understand that I would never hurt you like that, ever, of my own freewill.  Ever.  But it was all planned out by Dumbledore and the professors.  I had to pretend to kill you so the Death Eaters would think that their little warning would be on its way.  But they underestimated the school. They underestimated the professors.  They underestimated me."  He grinned slightly.  "And now they are going to pay the price."

            "What do you mean?" I asked, frowning.  Pay what price?

            "They're coming, Gin," he said slowly, his grin spreading.  "But the school's ready for them.  And they're not going to win.  They are going to be punished for every wrong they have ever done."

            "That's why they were putting guards up around the school, isn't it?" I asked, everything coming together.  It all made sense now.  All made horribly startling sense.  I was going to be Draco's gift to the school.  His gift to mark his inauguration into the Death Eater's ranks.  His gift to start the final battle.  But they had turned it on them.  They had turned it on the Death Eaters and made it their own little game.  I opened my mouth to say more, but never got the chance.

            "Ginny!" my brother cried, running into the infirmary.  "You're awake!"  Hermione and Harry were not far behind.  And Hermione's face was stained with tears.  I frowned at them.  Haven't I been in here for a while?  "They wouldn't let us see you!  We had to get ready!"  Well, that explains it all.  "I am so sorry that I wasn't there when you woke up!"  He came to a stop before my bed.  "You must have been so scared."

            "No," I lied.  Well I hadn't really been that scared.  A touch on the worried side, but not entirely scared.  But it's not like his presence would have made it any better.  "I wasn't all alone anyway."  I gestured to the blonde beside me.

            Ron stopped, seeming to realize for the first time that he was even there.  He stared at him, seeming to freeze.  Then he turned red.  Very red.  I leant back slightly.  This was going to get ugly.  I felt Draco's hand grasp my good one.

            "How can you sit there with him?" Ron hissed at me, his eyes narrowing.  Hermione and Harry came up behind him, looking at us with shock and uncertainty respectively.  "How can you sit there with him after all he put you through?"  His voice was steadily rising.  "He put you in the bloody hospital wing, Ginny!  If you had listened to me in the first place, you never would have gotten mixed up in all this!  I told you he's no better than his father, he never has been.  I knew it from the first time I met him.  And see?  I was right!"

            "He's my father!" Draco suddenly screamed.  All of us turned to look at him, surprise etched into all of our faces.  I have never seen Draco look so angry.  It was like he had finally snapped after keeping all of his emotion about his father trapped inside of him.  But he wasn't done: "How was I supposed to fucking act?!  I never knew any better!"

            I glanced away from Draco's startling anger, to look at my brother.  He looked affronted, his mouth hanging open as though he had attempted to say something but it had died as it reached his lips.

            "Sons are supposed to be able to look up to their fathers for proper guidance!" Draco raged on, his grip on my hand increasing ever more.  Great.  Now I am going to be walking around with two broken hands.  "But I wasn't as fortunate as you, Weasley!  My father didn't raise me right!  He tried to fill my mind with all that Dark shit rather than how to be righteous!  How could I have fought it if I had never seen what was right?  If I'd never been shown what was proper and good?!"

            I turned and looked at him.  His chest was heaving yet it seemed that he was done.  Yet there was still that anger in his eyes.

            "Draco," I whispered after only his breathing invaded our senses for what seemed like a decade.  "Are you alright?"

            "No," he said curtly.  "I will never be alright."  And with that he released my hand, stood up and strode through the hangings and out of sight.  I stared after him, not quite sure what I should do.  All he had said made perfect sense.  It also proved how strong of a person he truly is.  If he could live through all that and still become what he is, then he is stronger than any have ever thought him to be.  That he would have had so much potential to do good if he had never been tainted.

            I saw Ron move towards where Draco had exited, but Hermione's hand stopped him.

            "No Ron," she said softly.  "Let him be.  It's not your area."  She smiled at me slightly and I found, despite all that we had been through this year, after her beginning a friendship which she effectively destroyed with deft selfishness, that I smiled back.  It was the first sensible thing I had heard her say all year.  And I smiled at her for it.  

            There was an explosion outside and we all turned towards the window.  There was a fire beginning to rage in the forest.  We all turned back to each other.  It had begun.

            "We have to go," Hermione continued, now pulling on my brother's arm.  "She's fine.  He'll be fine.  We have to go."  Then she grinned slightly.  "Now we can finally get that snake git back for everything he has ever done to us.  To Harry."

            Ron turned to her, then smiled as well.  He then turned to Harry.  "What do you say, Mate?" he asked him.  "You up for it?"

            Harry grinned back, and it was the most devious smile I had seen him wear in a long time.  "I suppose I'm up for a round of hit the snake," he replied with a careless shrug, but I could see the anxiousness in his posture.  

            Seeming satisfied with this, Ron turned back to me.  "Take care, Gin," he whispered, and kissed me on the forehead.  With that the three of them turned and began to walk away.

            "Wait!" I called after them.  "Aren't you going to tell me that I have to stay here and stay safe?"

            "I could," Ron replied, looking over his shoulder.  "But I know you won't listen anyway."  He grinned then slightly.  "Besides, it seems you can choose for yourself quite effectively.  You don't need me to blotch up what you can apparently figure out on your own."  And with that, the Dream Team was gone.

            I stared after them.  How could all that had happened to them over the past year, all the stuff that had torn them apart, just suddenly fall away?  How could they be friends after all that?  After everything they had been through?  But you know, I beginning to think that that is a part of friendship that I never really understood.  That friendship can overcome obstacles, no matter how big they are.  That people will eventually get back together because there was something there in the first place that attracted them, and on some level it never leaves.  It never goes away no matter how much they hurt you or you them.  It's just the way things go and I realize that now.  

            I also realized that I was free of my brother.  Perhaps not forever, but at that moment I could make my own decision.  I could fight, or I could stay in here and watch it all happen.  But then, I'll leave it up to you to figure out just what I did.  I truly know, and I am thinking you might too.  After all, you have been hearing my thoughts for the past year.  You probably know me better than I know myself.

~*~

            I actually said it.  I said all the things I had ever secretly wanted to say to them.  To the infallible Dream Team.  But then, they aren't as perfect anymore.  And I don't think they ever will be ever again.  But that doesn't really bother me.  It's actually kind of comforting to know that even the perfect aren't as high and mighty as people think.  It's like a symbol that the imperfect can make it.  

            Imperfect like me I suppose.  What I told Ginny was true: I will never be alright.  Never.  I can hide it from others, from myself, but I will never be one hundred percent hunky-dory.  Life just doesn't work like that.  You can't run away from your problems.  You can only deal with them.  And by dealing with them perhaps you make things even less alright in the process.  But hopefully, in the long run, things will be better.  I hope I can be better one day.  Perhaps not perfect, but better.  So I don't feel this ache in my chest anymore.  My new acquisition it seems since, well since a few hours ago I suppose.  I already hate it.

            I mean, look at my arm.  Do you really think it needs a lovely little snake and skull on it?  I don't think so.  I think I like it with all its paleness and my moles.  I guess Ginny was right about that too.  But then, if I didn't have those stupid spots on my arms it would just be odd.  Too plain.  Too unreal.  I guess it's like her face really.  It wouldn't be nearly as interesting if there was nothing on it.  Those freckles are a part of her.

            Now the real question is how did all that spur off from an argument with Weasley?  I think I really have lost it.  Yup, no question about it.  I stormed off from an argument and I am now standing here, looking out the window, thinking about freckles and moles.  Great.  Now all I need is a padded room where I can feel safe enough to sing about them.  Merlin forbid.

            A flash of light from outside drew my attention back to the outside world.  I squinted, trying to ignore the slight reflection from the candles hanging at the end of the room.  Then I saw it again.  And again.  The Death Eaters had begun their attack.  They were at the outer perimeter of the school, trying to get in.

            Now it would be at this time that someone should make a smart assed comment like: And so it begins.  But I won't say that.  It's too clichéd and, well, a little corny.  Well, not really but-

            "Draco?" I heard someone whisper from behind me.  I saw through the reflection of the window that Ginny was creeping out from behind her hangings.  I didn't turn around, just stood there.  I couldn't quite bring myself to look at her.  Though as to why was beyond me.

            "You shouldn't be walking about," I said, instantly wanting to smack myself in the head for it.  My voice sounded so cold, so heartless.  I was the one who put her in that bed in the first place!  I'm such a git.

            "Yeah well," she said in an offhanded manner, not seeming to take in my tone.  Or she just didn't show it.  "It's not going to matter soon, is it?"  

            I couldn't bring myself to say anything.  But really, what could I say?  Yes Ginny!  We are all going to die in an hour or so because we don't stand a chance.  How about I slam you up against the wall and fuck you in an act of sheer depression.  Maybe that will change the course of our fate.  Ok.  That should not have entered my mind.  Ever.  

            I sensed her standing beside me before I saw her in the window.  I hadn't been staring at her for that little distraught thought that I had had.  Good thing I suppose.  She was staring out the window too, or at me.

            "I can't believe they're actually here," she muttered, her eyebrows crinkling into a frown.  She looked so tired.  But how could she not really?  Blood loss would make you tired.  I still can't believe I did that.

            I sensed her turn and stare at the office to my left.  "I suppose she's gone off with them, hasn't she?"

            I didn't respond, and she fell into silence once more.  So that left the both of us to stand there with our thoughts, staring out the window at the magic that reflected off the apparent bubble the school was surrounded in.  At the burning forest.  Yet, it seemed like everyone was out there.  Everyone was waiting for the inevitable moment that the Death Eaters broke through.  And here I was, standing here, watching it all from the Hospital Wing.  Watching as people would die.  As people I knew would suffer.  Would cease to exist.

            You know, I think I'm beginning to figure something out.  It's just like with that pathetic piece of soap.  That same surreal and bizarre feeling.  I can't just stand here and watch this all happen.  I can't just stand here and leave the Death Eaters that much more opportunity for victory.  It would be cowardly of me to do so.  It would be like my father.  

            That thought alone seemed to drive the steak in.  I couldn't just stand here.  If we did win, then people would say that I was no better than them.  That I was worse than them.  That I had been too afraid to even choose a side to fight for, regardless of whose it was.  I would be just like them.  Just like father.

            "You're going out there too, aren't you?" Ginny whispered, still staring through the window, am almost helpless look on her face.  "I can see it in your eyes."

            I felt my eyes widen slightly.  It was a little creepy that she had worded it to me before I had even formed it in my mind.  Ok, it was a little more than creepy, but still.  I closed my eyes for a second, then turned to her, away from the window and all its flaring magic beyond.  

            "That's alright," she continued, still looking out the window, ignoring my movement.  "I'm going too."  She let out a short sigh.  "I'm not going to let their stupid symbol actually mean something that works for their favor.  I'm going to make their little gesture a big mistake."

            I felt myself smile at that, though I am not quite sure why.  I suppose I never will really.  Could just be the absurdity of it all.  Or something else.  Who knows?

            She turned to me then, and looked up, a slight smile on her face.  "You know, it's been a really weird year."  She snorted slightly.  "I finally become friends with the people I always wanted to be friends with only to find that they aren't as perfect as I had always thought.  I find out that Snape likes me.  I got captured by a bloody _tree for Merlin's sake."  She let out a small laugh at that.  "And somewhere along the line, I found you.  And it's been the best discovery I think I have made so far.  Well, except for where to find revelations."_

            "But you didn't need a tree to make the last few, did you?" I asked.  I haven't needed one.  Or else I think I would have more than a few bruises for everything I have figure out in the past twenty-four hours.  I would be pretty discolored.  It would be gross.  "I have a feeling we never really needed them to begin with."

            "You mean that we just needed something to get our heads out of the clouds?" she asked, pulling the cloak that was about her shoulders even closer to her person.  

            "I suppose," I replied.  "Who knows, it's not like we can talk to trees."

            "We could always go back and talk to Joe," she offered, a smirk pulling at her lips.  "I think he's our best shot.  Being part tree and all."

            "Or just ugly," I sneered, frowning slightly.  No.  I don't think I ever want to hear about another Tree Daemon, let alone talk to one.  Especially Joe.  Really, who names a Daemon Joe? 

            "He wasn't that bad looking," she said slowly, the smirk spreading.  "Once you got past the whole tree bit.  And the bark.  And the dirty hair.  And the-"

            "We might be dead in the next hour and we are talking about your former captor," I suddenly let out, not even realizing it had been on my mind.  I frowned at her.  Well I was right.  We could be dead.  Or one of us could be.  And all we would have to remember the other by would be a conversation of some green bloke.  I don't think I would ever be able to come to terms with that.

            "Ah," she said in a fake wise voice and a grin. "That's the beauty of it though, isn't it?"  She grinned at my confused look.  I don't see any beauty in this at all.  "All this pointless rambling sums up our entire relationship in the past few months.  Well sort of.  You saved me and then things got all better, all more livable.  But we never really admitted it to each other.  We never really did anything to show it except have pointless conversations."  She sighed slightly.  "But I wouldn't have had it any other way.  I guess it's just the way we are, the way we always will be."

            I felt my heart do that odd spiking thing again.  I have gotten rather use to it lately.  Well, how could I not when I've been feeling it all year.  Without thought I stepped forward and encased her in my arms and pulled her against me once more.  She stiffened slightly then wrapped her arms around my back.  And we just stood there.

            I don't think I have ever really hugged anyone.  Not willingly anyways, for I had had to hug relatives.  You couldn't live in my family without having to give out a few polite hugs in greeting.  Not very often mind, but it still happened.  But I had never actually done it of my own free will.  I had never even really hugged her before.  Not really.  But this was my second one today.

            A rather large rumbling from outside caused me to finally pull her back.  I looked down on her, the now more frequent blasts of magic reflecting in her eyes.  And she had never looked more beautiful.  Not even when she had seemed to be that regal creature.  That hadn't been her, I realize now.  That had been an image of what I thought she should be, what she could be.  But this was now, this was real.  This was her.

            I smiled down on her.  "I really meant what I said," I told her softly.  She stared up at me, the magic still reflecting in her eyes.  "I do love you."

            Her eyes shown up at me sadly.  "I know," she replied, her good hand clutching at the fabric of my robes.  "And I love you too."  She smiled back at me.

            I opened my mouth to add something more, though as to what it would have been, I'll never know.  My tongue would have probably come up with something or another.  But her hand came up and rested on my lips, silencing my words.  "Draco," she said softly, smirking slightly now.  "Just shut up and kiss me."

            I stared at her.  Yes, this was definitely the real her.  The real Ginny.

            With a slight smirk of my own, I bent down and captured her lips with mine.  It was the most bizarre kiss I have ever experienced.  It was like we were trying to force each others frustrations, pains and passions into the other, yet the emotions just mixed together into something entirely different.  Something bitterly wrong yet so deliciously right.  But then, I'm not going to sit here and describe our last kiss.  It's something I would rather keep between us.  Something I would rather keep sacred in a way.

            An explosion larger than any of the others rocked the school.  We broke apart, clinging to one another as we looked out the window.  There were hundreds of black cloaked figures moving across the grounds, cast into odd light by the flames now erupting from the forest.  I knew at that moment that we would have to leave.  That we would have to go out there if we were to keep our dignity.  If we were to defend what we thought was right.  Even if we lost ourselves in the process.  It was the last stand really.  For both of us.

            We didn't say anything, just turned in unison and moved towards the exit.  It was as if we both knew what the other wanted to do.  Or rather, knew what we both had to do.  And the smile she shot at me burned into my memory, never to be replaced.  It was a symbol of all I had gained over the year.  All that had been gained since I fell out of that tree.

            We paused at the doors and I took a deep breath.  This was it.  This was really all that had been building all year.  This was the answer to all my unanswered questions.  This was what I was going to do with my life.  I was going to make the Death Eaters pay for all that they had done.  I was going to make them pay for the damage they had caused within me.  For the damage they had caused within her.  Within Potter even.

            And I was going to make sure that there was none of them left when this was all over with.  Even if it took years to accomplish, I will make sure that they are all in Azkaban.  Or dead.  And my father will be the first of my pray.  If he escapes that is.  But then, he's related to me, so I suppose he would survive if given the chance.  

            But I finally know.  All those months of worrying and it took my father to bring it all into focus.  How ironic really.  And yet it's not.  The man who made me feel so holly, so empty, is the one who filled in the gaps with his own dark efforts.  For I have never really felt so complete before.  I have had glimpses of it, I realize now, but never like this.  I have found my calling.  I am going to be a good guy.  Not an artificial bad guy like I was.  I am going to rescue soap.

The End

~*~

A/N:  Oh my god.  I can't believe that it's over!  ~begins to cry~  Now there's a part of me missing.  Like I've cut the ties on something that's been there for so long.  A whole year long.  No more plotting.  Unless I get a new story like this, which could happen...  That would be fun.  But there is still an epilogue to come, and I will be attaching my author's notes onto the end of that one.  That way you _have to read it if you want to find out what was going on in this deranged head of mine while I wrote this.  ~cackles~  Well, until then..._

I would like to offer many thanks to: **Kyrissaean**, Hplov4eva, Lady Coia**(But I love writing cliffies...)****, Lallie(~whacks Lallie over the head with her stick~ You should really stop reading that stuff. Find me more D/G!! Anyhoo, it wasn't _that_ different)****, clanmalfoy, alenchic(Hope it wasn't too corny for you)**, cashew**(...well, their not called "Indians" anymore. The politically correct term is "First Nations Peoples". But I do think Herm's tears could constitute a X-mas present. Especially if their in Cassie Clarie's Draco triology...)**, smprsgrrl**(I'm used to pissing off people who like ducks. I sent this guy's imaginary ducky into the insane asylum...)**, Wow(**Well, not really...I didn't have to do anything...that I didn't want to do...)****, Laiannon-fae-elf(you were so close it's scary)**, Azalai**(My friend Lallie's worse. She was sick of her story so everyone died. ~shakes head~)****, o0true0o(Nope!)****, RosyCheeks(...so he's hot when he kills people...?)**, dragonfire17**(It's a good thing you didn't send those people or I would have never been able to get this chapter out...)**, yourgrandmother, Darcel**(nope)****, grace, Ambrosine(yay! Someone who actually reads my notes!)****, Tessa1(Yeah, I'm sad too. Oh well, now I can write another one...)**, ahsnap**(but who really does their homework anyways? Jk)****, tulzdavampslayer(Well, that was the most detailed reason why... But you know, the more you write the better you get :D)****, mystical flame, kiwiblue, aurora borealis1(Thanks for reviewing so much of myself. The way I portrayed a lot of the characters in here is nothing how I really see them, but I needed them that way. And you are one of the first to find Joe amusing. Bless you. ~grin~)****, ~*Tom's Girl*~(You can't sue me, I own nothing! Nothing I say!)****, Martina(Actually, that story was improperly formatted and that's why it looks like that. It annoys me to no end when people do that, so I take extra care not to do it myself. Sorry though.)**, Jade Summers(**Excuse me, but I am not a cigarette. ~smiles and waves~)****, BAMA BABE, WHO'S CONCERNED PLEASE UPDATE SOON!(Really? 16 days? That's actually a pretty good record for me. But poop on you for figuring out my plan...) and **Erisinia****** Gazelle(You know, I have been threatened with penguins before, but I must say that was the most original threat yet...)****.**

And for all those who asked, here is the link for my friend Lallie's cookie story:   or  


	16. After a Bit of Time

Title: The Truth About Trees

Author: Tiny Q

E-Mail: one_legged_lesbian_seagull@hotmail.com

A/N: Well, this took more work than I thought it would.  I guess when I wrote this up about eight months ago I had planned to end the story after Ginny was rescued from Joe.  Well, that didn't happen so I had to change the results of everything.  No fun at all, but I did it!  Yay.  Now this is the real end to the story and how everything panned out in the end.  What fun eh?  Well, enjoy!

Disclaimer:  I own nothing but the plot.  And Joe.  And who ever else are not from the HP universe.  Or any other for that matter...

Oh, and the matter with linking Lallie's cookie story is really starting to piss me off.  It won't upload even though I put it on the page.  ~grows and beats computer with her stick~  So, please go to my favorite authors section and look for **Lallie**.  The story is called "**Through the Eyes of an Elf".  It's up on Fiction Alley as well and I think she updates that gallery more frequently.  :D**

**The Truth About Trees******

**Epilogue**

**After a Bit of Time**

~*~

            You know, life sure seems a lot different once you grow up.  There isn't this constant cloud of angst floating over your head, mimicking your every move.  Well, sometimes there is, but it's not a constant ache that won't go away.  It can be cured. 

            I never really realized just how immature I was as a child or a teenager until I went to art school.  I realized it further when I graduated a few years later.  But then, what can you expect when I am eight years older?  I still am quite baffled at how self-centered I was.  At how stupid I really was.  But I can't really go back in time and change it all.  And I sure as hell can't sit here and complain about it.  Only thing I can really do is accept what I was like and laugh at myself for it.

            Now, you may be wondering just where "here" is.  Well, to get to that part I have to fill in a few details first.  After I graduated from Hogwarts I saved up enough money to get myself into a good post-secondary school where I took multiple art programs.  I figured why not play on my doodling?  And some how I ended up getting a job shortly after I graduated.  It's a fun job really.  I get to create covers for books, both Muggle and Wizarding.  Though I don't make the Muggle ones move...

            Anyways, about three months ago I got a rather large job of creating moving covers for a series of sixteen books.  No easy task I can tell you.  Yet when I had completed it my employers gave me three weeks off.  How wonderful!  So I'm sitting here, in my favorite cafe: The Skanky Lizard, in Ottery St. Catchpole.  And don't let the name fool you, it's just a touch on the artsy side.  Filled with the Muggle version of my kind of people.

            It's a wonderful day outside.  Gloomy and rainy.  And because of it I am the only one by the window, reading my book.  No sun to burn me today.  Just a nice hot chocolate and a selection of yummy cookies.  I have been having a craving for their cookies for so long.  Especially their triple chocolate chocolate chip cookies.  Yum.

            But as I was saying, life changes a lot over eight years.  It really does.  Everyone I know has changed so much, yet they all stayed so much the same.  I mean, dear Colin Creevey is still dating that Ravenclaw of his.  After multiple breakups, make-ups, shakeups and once again more breakups.  Last I heard they were moving towards the turbulent part of the relationship again, but who knows, maybe this time they'll pull it off.

            You remember Sara right?  My odd Ravenclaw friend?  Well she went on to become a very important member of the Ministry of Magic.  She's a higher up in the Department of Mysteries, but I don't know too much more.  And for obvious reasons.  She's one of the few people from Hogwarts that I still keep in touch with besides Colin and the Dream Team.

            Even that creepy cannibalistic Slytherin first year changed a lot.  Actually, it's phenomenal how much he changed.  He works for me now actually, as one of the inkers.  He's not quite so creepy any more and the cannibalism theory is out the window since he is a vegetarian.  Yet as to how that came about I am not going to explain.  It would take a whole other story, but I'll just say that it involved a tree.  Apparently he had quite a large crush on me back at Hogwarts.  Which is a little disturbing to say the least.  Why must people stare?  Why can't they just start up a conversation?  But then, that would be too easy, wouldn't it?

            Then there is Harry.  I couldn't forget him.  He became an Auror of course.  There was no doubt about that really.  He is Harry Potter after all, The Boy Who Lived.  And I am pleased to inform you that he is expecting his second child within a month or so.  He met a nice girl from Beauxbatons when he was in the academy and they just hit it off.  I am really happy for him.

            Now we get into the aspect of my life where I think I have matured the most from: Ron and Hermione's relationship.  And yes, there is still one there.  I still find it a little hard to believe that they are still dating.  Well engaged really.  Have been for two years actually, but that's beside the point.  I am still quite ashamed of myself for making such a big deal over their whole little triangle deal.  I really should not have gotten myself involved and that should have been the end of it.  But I know that's not how it happened and I begrudged them for it until I graduated from post-secondary.

            Now Hermione and I are on rather good terms.  I am going to be her maid of honor when she and Ron actually do get married.  I told you I would accept her apology, but I didn't.  I apologized to her eventually, for acting like such a child.  She actually said pretty much the same in return.  It was that friendship thing again.  The whole issue where you can't stay mad at an old friend forever.  Not if you want to remain sane anyways.

            But you are probably wondering exactly why I had apologized first.  She had been a rather large bitch after all.  I'll tell you why: I was sick of upsetting my family.  Whenever there was a family gathering Hermione would be there because of Ron.  And every time we would give each other icy stares or simply glare at each other.  And after a while I realized that it was hurting my family more than it was hurting her.  It took me a few years to figure that out, mind, but I did and I am happy that I stopped it.  Causing my family pain and angst just wasn't worth it to me.  

            So I am assuming now that you have noticed that I have left someone out.  Someone rather important to the rest of the story I suppose.  Well I don't suppose, I know.  Draco Malfoy.  Well, his part of the tale requires a lot more detail than anyone else.  And I can't really skimp on them either.

            We went to battle.  We fought with the rest of the school.  And we almost lost.  But then the Aurors showed up and saved the day.  They really did.  But they were sadly not enough on all fronts.  As was expected there were many casualties, many of whom I knew or knew of.  But I think the hardest one of all to get over was Dumbledore.  

            After years of fighting Dark Wizards, he was finally defeated by Voldemort that night.  Yet all was not lost as Harry killed Voldemort right after, more out of vengeance than anything else.  It was apparently prophesized that he would do so, yet I never heard anything about it until afterwards, so it could have been just a tale.  Either way, Voldemort died for good and the Death Eaters were released from their bonds of him.  Including Snape.

            It was then, and only then, that these very same Death Eaters, the loyal minions of the Dark Lord, fled.  They ran and many of them, the ones that were still alive that is, hid themselves very well.  And it is at this point that my lovely blonde Slytherin comes into play.  

            His father had been among the ones that fled and he claimed that he would not stand for it.  So when the Aurors began to push the Ministry to track down every single Death Eater there was and make them pay for their crimes regardless of their excuses, he joined the group.  It was a rather large group really.  A lot of people I knew were members.  Like Neville and Hannah.  Mostly people who had a reason to want to seek justice from the minions of the Dark Lord since they could no longer find it with he himself.

            So Draco left and he told me not to wait.  Not to waste my life waiting for a person who might never return.  He made me promise him this and carry on with my life.  At the time I thought he was stupid, that there was no way that he would never come back.  I mean, how could he not?  He loved me.  He had to return.

            Yet he didn't come back that summer.  Though he did send me owls telling me how things were going.  And he didn't come back through my last school year, which I wouldn't have survived through if it hadn't been for Colin and Sara and the other people I forced myself upon.  Yet he still sent me owls, though they began to get sparser.  When I went to art school they were very few in number and I realized exactly what he had been talking about.  There were so many Death Eaters left, and for some reason he was pitted on continuing his work until he caught every last one of them.  And it didn't help much that their numbers and funds were dwindling.  Yet Draco himself was rather well funded.  Apparently he had an extensive amount of wealth he had tucked away while he had been at school.  And it seemed he was intent on using it to finish his job, even if the rest of the world was not willing to help him.

            I actually haven't received an owl from him in over four years.  Last I heard he was heading over to North America, tracking his father and a band of a few others.  And I haven't heard anything since.  Not even along the rumor lines.  Harry and Neville are usually pretty reliable sources, able to dig deep if they put their minds to it, but even they haven't been able to find anything.  

            I was sad at first.  I really was.  And really, how could I not be?  He was my first love.  Well, my first true love anyways.  But after a while I began to realize that he had been right to tell me not to wait.  That I should move on.  I had promised him after all, so I did.  I moved on with my life.  I got a job, I got my own flat and I have had a selection of relationships that lasted for various amounts of time.  But he always has a place in my heart.

            I've always heard that you never forget your first love, that a part of you never stops loving them.  I always thought it rubbish, but it's true.  A part of me does still love him.  Not as passionately as I once did of course.  Actually, all I can really hope for is that he is happy.  That he isn't just spending his life doing the bidding of others.  Hunting down their monsters.  I want him to have more than that.  He deserves more than that.

            "Excuse me?" a voice asked to my right, interrupting my thoughts.  It was a male voice.  "Is this seat taken?"

            Without looking up from the book I wasn't really reading I nodded my head.  I sensed the man sit down next to me.  Now why would he insist on sitting beside me when the cafe is practically empty?  Can this guy not sit by himself?  Or does he have some sort of disorder which makes him desperate for a human presence.  Sorry, it just really annoys me when this happens.  And it happens a lot.

            "So what are you reading?" he asked after a moment, and I almost dropped my mouth in disbelief.  And now he's talking to me too.  How grand.  Perhaps I shouldn't have asked for people to talk instead of stare.  But then, is this guy staring?  A quick glance tells me he's looking at the book.  

            With a slight sigh I closed the book and turned the cover towards him.  "It's a murder mystery," I replied simply as the man beside me examined the cover.  I then flipped it back to the page I was on and I continued to read.  Sure, it was rude, but I don't feel like being sociable at the moment.  Not really anyways.  

            "I never found what was so interesting in Muggle books," the man said with a slightly airy tone.  "They just seem so flat."

            "It's all in the way that they create their own magic," I replied without thinking.  Well I had given the same response to all of my brothers.  Some more than once.  But wait.  Did he just say...  How does he know I'm a...

            I slowly looked up from my book and looked at the man beside me.  He stared back with gray eyes slightly hidden under a messy mop of baby-like blonde hair that curled pleasantly at the ends.  I blinked.  It couldn't be.  What are the chances?  After all these years?

            "You know, it's rude to stare, Weasley," he drawled at me, and I vaguely sensed the book fall from my hand.  I didn't even hear it hit the table.  "Or didn't your mother ever teach you that?"

            "Draco?" I asked in a slight whisper.  It was almost as though I was scared that if I said his name too loud he would disappear.  But that's ridiculous, isn't it?

            "And the lady gets it in one," he said in a rather cheerful voice.  More cheerful than I ever remembered his voice being.  "Now the question is, what will she do with this new found discovery?"

            Good question.  What will I do?  Without really thinking about it, I reached out and pinched his arm.  Hard.  

            "Ow!" he gasped at me, pulling away.  "That wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

            I stared at him.  Ok, so he's real.  Really real.  Yet he's different too.  His hair's darker.  But then, so is mine.  Age seems to do that to hair.  But his skin's still pale like it was.  His eyes are too blue though.  And his nose a touch more crooked than I remember it being.  And his body is more filed out than it was before.  If he is really him then he grew up.  He lived.  Not much different from me I suppose.  So why am I having such a hard time believing that he's really here.  

            "You're different," I heard myself say, and then mentally smacked myself in the head.  Great Gin.  Haven't seen the guy in like eight years, let's just insult him, shall we?

            "You mean the fact that I'm happy now?" he asked, grinning at me.  Well he does have a point.  He's acting as though he doesn't have to hide anymore.  

            "Well I was referring to your appearance," I replied, shrugging slightly, trying to release the muscles in my shoulders from the permanent position they were in.  "But that works too."

            "It has been eight years, Weasley."  He shrugged and looked out the window.  "You cut your hair.  I almost didn't recognize you."

            "I had to," I replied, finding myself becoming a touch more comfortable.  Maybe this was the real him.  Maybe it is possible for these freaky coincidences to take place.  It just seems a little to Muggle movie like if you ask me.  "It was becoming a health hazard to the people around me."  He looked at me with mild interest.  "I cut it about six years ago after Fred tripped down the stairs from it for the third time."  

            He snorted at this then seemed to sober slightly.  "You look good Weasley," he said softly, then turned his eyes out of the window again where the rain was now pounding against the glass.  

            "You do too," I responded, turning to look out the window as well.  

            Well this is interesting, isn't it?  The first time we've seen each other in so long and all we can do is look out the window at the rain.  What happened to the bitter cheerfulness we used to have together?  But then, I'm not going to go hopping from foot to foot begging Snape to be my partner and I am sure he is not going to go out in this weather and try to taunt some duck into attacking him.  No, I think we have grown out of that now. Or, it's simply not the time.  Perhaps we'll get it back someday.  If there will be a someday for us together.  Who knows why he's here.  Maybe he's getting married.  Maybe he has some disease and is going to die in a week.  Maybe I'm just over exaggerating things.

            "So what have you been doing all these years?" I finally asked after the silence had stretched out for several minutes.  I turned to him and looked at his face.  I must say, that his differences aside, he is still quite a handsome man.  Even if his nose isn't perfectly straight anymore.  I think it gives him more character actually.  Ginny, get over it.  "Why are you back?"

            He sighed slightly.  "Well, you know the story.  I was hunting Death Eaters."

            "Yes," I said, glancing at my fallen book.  "But there's a pretty big gap now, isn't there?"

            "I suppose," he agreed, also looking at the book.  Well, my hands rather.  "And I am assuming that you would like the gaps filled then?"

            "It would be nice," I admitted, shrugging once more.  The stiffness was returning.  Did I really want to hear it?  Did he really want to tell it?

            "Well, there's not much to tell you really," he replied with a shrug.  "After my last letter to you I went to North America with a small group of people and we tracked down the last of the Death Eaters."  He shrugged again.  "It took us about a year and then we went our separate ways."

            "And your father?" I whispered, silently cursing the man's name.  I hate him.  I really do.  For what he did to so many people I know.  For what he did to me.  For what he did to his son.

            "Dead," Draco replied flatly, still looking at my hands.

            "Oh," I said daftly, glancing at his face.  A cloud seemed to have passed over his features.  Obviously this was a delicate matter and I wasn't going to push it.  If he wanted to say more than he could go right ahead and say more.  Then something occurred to me.  "But that was three years ago.  What did you do for the rest of the time?"

            He looked at me then, and his face looked as though the cloud had never been there at all.  He was smiling really.  And it was a wonderful smile.  Even more wonderful than the one he used to wear in Hogwarts.  This one was unconstrained.  

            "I traveled," he said, smiling a bit more.  "I got to live a life most would kill for."  His eyes seemed to drift off to somewhere else.  "I got to do things I never would have been able to under my father's rule."  He turned his eyes back to me.  "And it was wonderful."

            I felt myself smile back at him.  You know, that is really all I could have hoped for.  All I had hoped for.  Draco had found his happiness.  He had lived his life.  He hadn't wasted it.  "I'm glad," I said in an equally happy voice.

            "And what have you been doing all this time?" he asked, his eyes seeming to twinkle slightly.  I don't think I have ever seen that before.  Not from him anyways.  He must really have found something worthwhile during those three years.

            I reached down and took the book into my hands, holding it up slightly.  "Doing stuff like this," I replied with a shrug.  "Nothing too grand, but I enjoy it."  Then I grinned slightly.  "And you remember that little first year Slytherin you warned me about?"  He nodded.  "Well he works under me now."  I let out a small laugh.  

            After a moment the blonde before me laughed too.  "I never thought the kid had it in him."

            We ended up talking like this for the rest of the afternoon and after a while it was as if there wasn't this eight year gap between us anymore.  It was as if in one afternoon we had managed to repair the damage that had been there and gone back to the way we had been.  But not really like we had been.  We weren't quite as bitter now.  Not as awkward.  It was like we were old friends who had known each other all of our lives.  It sound absurd, but that's what it felt like to me.  I am hoping that he felt that way too.  And I am assuming so because of this.

            "So, the same time tomorrow then Weasley?" he asked as we finally stood to leave.  I grinned at him, making my way towards the door, tucking my book into my side bag and hoisting my umbrella.  I didn't stop until I was through the door he opened for me and under the over hang, opening my umbrella.

            "Only if you stop using my last name, Malfoy," I replied, grinning then walked out into the rain without looking back.  I could hear his laughter ringing as I walked back home.

            You know, maybe it will be different this time.  We're both adults now.  We both have lives.  Freedoms.  Maybe someday this new found friendship will turn into something more than what it is.  However odd it really is.  But then, that is another story entirely.  And perhaps I won't have to fall out a tree this time to start it.

~*~

A/N:  Well that's it.  The end.  And there wasn't anymore.  Well, there could be I suppose.  I did leave the option open...  But that probably won't happen.  I have other stories to write.  About eight of them at the moment.  Along with a horror.  I haven't tired my hand at scariness for years...  But let's just wait and see what happens.  Knowing my luck it will probably turn out funny like this one.  ~sigh~  How about I just get onto my thank yous then for the last chapter...

Many thanks to: **Hplova4eva, Tessa1, Isadora, SkysTheLimit**(just what I need, another stalker. It's bad enough as it is at school I don't need you as well! ~begins to cry at the unfairness of it all~)**, clanmalfoy, Jade Summers(I suppose I forgive you)****, RosyCheeks, Wow, Laiannon-fae-elf, Irish(Neither did I!)****, Darcel(Stupid html, hopefully it works this time)**, aurora borealis1, Lallie**(Trust me, so would I. But that would have taken another chapter and I didn't feel like writing it. So there.  Mleh.)**, Fairy-Queen770, Azali**(Nope, they're in the same category)**, unperfection**(Sorry about that, you could always search around for other movies and things. There are so many other people named Joe that are nicer)**, tulzdavampslayer**(Oh, so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. But suspenders?)****, Airiya, intoxicate, cashew(Sanity is an ideal. I don't even bother with it anymore :D) and ****Amaya.**

So yes, if you haven't figured it out yet, almost all of this story was based on my own life.  Well, with a few obvious differences.  If I had met Joe he would have come home with me and done my homework for me.  But that's something you all don't need to know about....  Just jokes.  And yes, I actually did skip about in front of my friend begging my teacher to be my partner.  Not that my Physics teacher was there at the time, but I had to be his partner in class before hand and for some reason it was funnier after I had gotten out of the class than when I was in it.  The skipping part I still don't understand...  Anyhoo, the reason many of the characters were so OOC was because I grafted my own friend's personalities onto them.  Draco and Ginny were both two different versions of my thoughts in a way but not entirely cause it would be weird to fall in love with myself.  This entire thing was initially a way for me to deal with my own stupidity (though I didn't realize it at the time) and it just sort of mutated into this sixteen chapter monster.  And no matter how much I bitched about it while writing it, I am rather proud of it.  Even if my angst turned into bitter and sarcastic humor.  But then, I suppose it's a reflection of my personality then.  ~cackles~  Not that I am that bitter... ~begins to laugh some more~

A great big thank you to everyone who actually liked this and was kind enough to review and tell me.  You guys are all awesome!  You have no idea what it means to me when I get to hear from you.  It's a replacement for the love I am missing at home...  ~laughs~  But seriously now, you guys are great and I simply can't thank you enough.  Well I suppose that I could type thank you up a hundred times, copy it and paste it until my fingers turn blue, but I don't think that would be very effective, now would it?  So I suppose I will just have to offer "the present" which is a rather stupid idea of mine.  I'll put it out on Christmas Eve Day because I absolutely hate that day.  Why can't you just wake up and it's all Christmas Eve?  Bloody day time, making me wait.  Ehem.  So I'll put it up on that day and you can yell at me for being a dork.  ~grin~

Love,

Tiny Q


	17. The Present

Title: The Truth About Trees

Author: Tiny Q

E-Mail: one_legged_lesbian_seagull@hotmail.com

A/N: Ok, so here is the "present" that I was babbling about.  It's just a mix of odd things that I found mildly entertaining at one point in time or another while I was writing this story.  I warn you now though, it's a pretty dumb idea but it does have it's moments I suppose.  So yes, prepare yourself for a display of Tiny Q's pure insanity, riddled with a wide variety of inside jokes without explanation to save your own sanity.  Happy Holidays everybody!!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.  Nope.  Not a thing.

**The "Present"******

~*~

Well this first thing is my little rant on behalf of Joe.  For some reason many people thought him to be like an Ent.  But he is not an Ent!  He's a Tree Daemon.  He looks tree-like but is not anything like a tree itself!  Poor misunderstood Joe.  So here is a rant by him along to Molson Canadian's 'I am Canadian' commercial.  I just love their adds!  They're just so fun.  I wish they would put them all on a DVD and then I can watch them all.  ~begins to plot~  But I do find it kind of odd that Canadian nationalism is driven by advertisements from an American owned company.  Kind of makes you wonder, doesn't it?  Well anyways, enough conspiracy theory and on with...

**I am a Tree Daemon**

Hey...

I'm not a treehearder

Or a treeman...

And I don't live behind a falling spring

Or drink glowing water

Or own a giant table...

And I don't know Treebeard, Bregalad or Quickbeam from Fangorn.

Although I'm certain they're fascinating people.

I have autonomy 

Not a moot.

I speak English and Treeschil,

NOT Entish.

And I throw tantrums,

NOT rocks.

I can proudly chase those I don't like away.

I believe in beauty,

NOT conversation.

Cages, NOT freedom.

And that red hair is the most wondrous and attractive hair color there is!

A pet is better than an Ent-Wife.

A human _is a pet._

And trees are just that, trees!

Tree Daemons are the second most populous Daemons.

The first creatures of bark.

And the best relatives of trees there are!

MY NAME IS JOE!

AND I AM A TREE DAEMON!

~*~

Ok, here is the second part after that rather retarded first part.  For some reason I kept all the scenes that I did not use.  And I figure hey, why not show you how stupid they really were.  It will be just like the deleted scenes from movies that you ooh and ahh about because they weren't in there or the ones that you cheer that they weren't because they suck poop.  Oh, how I love deleted scenes.  So in tribute to them here are my own deleted scenes...

**Scene 1:**

When I was half way through the story I began to toy with the idea of having Ginny fall out of a tree again and realize her feelings for Draco.  Then Harry would come up and take her to the Hospital Wing and Draco would come and be all Dracoy.  But I scrapped it because it ran into a wall and it just sounded generally stupid.  And how many bloody times does that girl have to be around Madame Pomfrey anyways?  So it was cut, but I'll let you make fun of it...

_            It really is rather amazing that I didn't hit anything on the way down.  Nope.  I only hit the lovely ground.  Butt first._

_            "Ow," I groaned, flopping back and staring up at the tree I had quickly vacated.  _

_            "Ginny!" someone called and I heard feet running towards me.  I tired to look up but found I couldn't.  "Ginny!  Are you alright??"  The voice called again._

_            "Just peachy," I muttered , giving a slight thumbs up.  "What kind of revelation was that?" I muttered at the tree before the person stopped running and dropped down beside me._

_            It was Harry._

_            "Ginny, are you alright?" he asked in concern.  _

_            "No," I said, looking up at him.  "My ass hurts."_

_            "What were you doing in that tree?" he demanded, reaching out and helping me to sit up.  Everything hurt._

_            I was about to tell him about the revelations and trees, and the golden eyes but thought better of it.  Only Malfoy would understand.  "I just felt like being a monkey," I replied with a bit of a grin._

_            "Well Miss Monkey," he said mockingly.  "Let's get you to the hospital wing."_

~*~

**Scene 2:**

I would have rather liked to keep parts of this conversation in the actual story but not the rest because the end is utter crap.  If I were to have used the beginning of it though I would have had to make it rain after they escaped from Joe and I thought that would be a little over kill.  Not to mention uber corny.  So sadly I had to cut Ginny's discussion about her underwear, but it's not dead for ever now...

_            It was raining outside.  It was the rain I had been hoping for, but now it was at the most inconvenient time.  For one I was wearing white.  For another that stupid tree thing had not left me my bra.  And it was one of my favorites: light blue with monkeys on it.  My mother had always told me that a woman's underwear tells a lot about them.  If it is in a terrible state it reflects the care and other such things the woman herself takes.  Yet she never said anything about what a woman is like if she wears monkeys on her knickers.  _

_            But anyway, as I was saying before I began to ramble about undergarments, it was raining.  I was in white.  I did the only thing anyone in my position would have done: I crossed my arms.  This seemed to attract the attention of both of the boys in front of me, however, something I had not wanted to do.  And who would?  _

_            It's really rather amazing that neither of them hadn't noticed before.  I sure did, but then the bloody things are attached to me, aren't they? _

_            Colin quickly averted his eyes to the ground, seeming to find the drenched ground the most fascinating thing on the planet.  But Draco didn't.  He began to stare at me.  It wasn't just my chest though, it seemed to be all of me.  As if he had never seen me before, which is ridiculous since I see him like every day.  Yet don't get me wrong, it wasn't one of those perverted stares.  You know the kind when the guy is undressing you with his eyes.  It was, well, it was just a stare.  _

_            After a moment, it was a rather brief one really, he took off his cloak and wrapped it around me.  Just like that.  Yet his hands lingered on my shoulders a bit longer than they should of.  I was probably just imagining things, but it happened.  Then he smirked.  But he didn't say anything._

_            "Thank you," I whispered.  I'm still not sure why I had to sound so quiet, so weak.  It's not like I was some maiden without a backbone.  I'm a Weasley._

~*~

**Scene 3:**

This was a play on the quote I had in the third chapter.  I wanted to bring in doubts about the revelations but I eventually scrapped it because I was too lazy to incorporate it. But just so you know what I had mused about at one time.  Not that it is very credible musings because I thought about it while sitting for my fifteenth hour of my Chemistry Diploma prep course (and I will have you know that I did pass that test).  So it was of course a little off...

_Trees are not to be trusted..._

_            "Does that mean we can't trust our revelations?  That I really should still be falling for Harry?  That you should still be along side your father?"  _

_            "I refuse to believe that.  I refuse to believe that the past few years have been a lie.  That I have been living a lie.  What ever we were supposed to do, we are here now.  And we're together and that's all that really matters to me."_

~*~

**Scene 4:**

I kind of wish I put this somewhere.  It's kind of funny.  But I thought of it too late in the game and couldn't put it anywhere where it would work properly.  ~sniff~  So perhaps you should keep an eye out for it might make an appearance in another fic of mine where it actually works...

_            "What are you feeling?" Draco whispered.  "Honestly."_

_            "I feel hungry," I replied before I could even think about it._

~*~

**Scene 5:  **

This scene I am happy I did not put in the story at all.  It's just plain stupid and I don't even know why I am putting it here.  It's not entertaining in the slightest.  Well I suppose it can prove my stupidity and corniness to you. Not like you don't already know about that though...

_            "I love you," I whispered, my voice slightly gruffer than usual.  Well, it seems my tongue is back with a vengeance then.  But I think I will thank it this time.  I don't think I could have gotten that out, let alone realize it, in time._

_            She stared up at me for a moment, then, just as I was beginning to get this horrible feeling that I had said something wrong, she smiled.  "I love you too," she replied, then her smile faded slightly.  "But it's not for real."_

_            "What do you mean?" I demanded, suddenly feeling that perhaps this wasn't really her.  That it wasn't really Ginny.  That I had made a mistake._

_            "Oh," she said, realization suddenly dawning on her face.  "No, Draco, I didn't mean it like that."  I frowned at her, feeling my body go ridged.  "I do love you, I really do.  It's just that, it's not going to go anywhere."  She smiled sadly then.  "We aren't going to go and get married or anything like that when this is all over.  We'll just ruin things."  A cynical look seemed to take her over.  "School relationships never make it.  Well, not many of them at least."_

_            Well, I suppose she does have some truth in those words, cold that they are.  But why would she bring that up now?  Why not bring it up during one of our pointless ramblings?  I suppose it would have been a little bizarre to talk about something like that.  To think that whatever we were feeling would eventually end.  But I don't want to think about it now either._

_            "Don't think about the future, Weasley," I sighed, smirking slightly.  "We're probably going to die tonight anyways."_

_            "So your saying just live for the moment, snog you stupid and go and kill myself a few dozen Death Eaters and place one of each of their molars on a necklace and wear it for the rest of my life?"  She grinned then.  It was a weak grin._

_            "Sounds like a good enough plan to me," I shrugged, my fingers getting caught in her once again red hair.  _

_            She let out a small laugh.  "I'm sorry about that," she said slowly, looking down.  "That's the old cynic in me talking."  Then she looked up at me, a smirk playing on her face as well.  "But I am beginning to like that snogging part more and more."_

~*~

And now, just because it amuses me, and hopefully Lallie as well, our little theory on trees:

Trees...

Lallie: They're all about world domination.

Tiny Q: They're everywhere.

This was Lallie and I making our way to classes with one of her friends, or rather, they were going to classes and I was going home, and we were musing about stories (something we often do).  When we are not musing about stories we often try to confuse people with our seemingly directionless babble.  Our victim?  Her friend.  And he couldn't run away.  So he got to hear about trees that day.  Hey, it's better than my tales of Mr. Scarffy and how he smells different everyday.  Well he does!

~*~

Next up is a version of my 'Draco and Ginny's Rant'.  If you haven't ever read them there's no need to worry.  The jist of it is that Draco and Ginny have to act out every single one of the fics that they are in.  So this is their chance to talk about what they have been forced to do, whether they liked it or not...

**Draco**** and Ginny's Rant: The Truth About Trees**

Ginny: You know, I'm glad _that_ is all over with now.  A whole year acting like some neurotic loner.

Draco: You think it was only hard on you?  I had no other friends besides you.  I mean seriously now, I am a smooth enough person that I am always surrounded by people.

Ginny: Sure you are Draco.  Just keep telling yourself that.  Perhaps one day your imaginary friends will become real too.

Draco: Shut it, Weasley.  At least I wasn't captured by a tree.  What kind of idiot lets them self get captured by a tree?

Ginny: Hey, at least that stupid "tree" worshiped me, unlike some people I know.

Draco: I was forced to worship you at the end, seeing as you were my only friend.  I call it lack of choice.

Ginny: which is why you stabbed me, right?

Draco: But of course.

Ginny: I seriously think I should have been more pissed at you for that.  You stabbed me for Merlin's sake!

Draco: Hey, no point in yelling at me, I didn't write the stupid story.

Ginny: I know that, but it doesn't change the fact that you still stabbed me.

Draco: Speaking of changing, let's change the subject.

Ginny: ~grumble~ To what?

Draco: Quidditch.

Ginny: But there wasn't any quidditch in the story.

Draco: It wasn't even mentioned once.  It was so sad.  I would have done a fantastic job with it.

Ginny: Right.  But it's not like you would have beaten Harry anyways, so I suppose it was a good thing that I didn't have to put up with your moping.

Draco: I would so have won.  And I do not mope.

Ginny: Sure you don't.  You just like to sit about and do nothing with a moody face for the sport of it, right?

Draco: Damn straight.  And it's not like you didn't mope as well.

Ginny: What do you expect?  Treated like shit, shunned, and only you for company?  No wonder I was in the hospital wing so many times.

Draco: I don't get it.

Ginny: Neither do I, but I figured it would be a good place to add my distaste for being in that damn wing so many times.  I mean, how many times do I _really_ need to be in there?

Draco: True.  But I got to be in there too you know.  You can't steal all of the hospital fun.

Ginny: ~snorts~  What I still don't get the whole revelation thing though.  I do get the part with the trees, but you had so many revelations without them.

Draco: Brought about by dreams and soap.

Ginny: What ever happened to that dream we apparently shared together.  That seemed to build up to something but it just disappeared.

Draco: The stupid bint probably got bored with the idea.  Or she just forgot.

Ginny: Well she did forget how she was going to end the bloody thing after all.

Draco: Good point.  How can you forget how you are going to end something?

Ginny: No clue.  But I am glad we were not forced to do the ending she had written out.  How could I not fall in love with anyone else after you for ten years?

Draco: Well, I am Draco Malfoy, Slytherin Bad Boy extraordinaire.  Not to mention the fact that I am dead sexy.

Ginny: And you run away from ducks.

Draco: And I run away from- Wait.  I didn't run away.  The bloody thing attacked me!

Ginny: You know, that happened to one of her gay friends and his boyfriend.  She thought it was funny and needed to be shared with the world.

Draco: I really didn't need to know that.

Ginny: ~cheerfully~ I know!

Draco: I am beginning to get the feeling that if we continue this conversation I am going to find out even more things about the origins of our forced actions that I really don't ever want to know.  So I move that we end this stupid rant and never ever think about this stupid story again.

Ginny: You know, that doesn't sound like too bad of an idea.

Draco: Well of course it doesn't.  I thought of it after all.  

Ginny: Malfoy...

The End.

~*~

And finally, something a little stupider than all the rest.  It was Lallie's idea and had me giggling so much that I just had to do it.  So in the style of Disney and Pixar, on with the Bloopers...

**Blooper #1**

            "I find it quite entertaining," Malfoy sneered.  "When the freaks of the school begin to pair off.  Honestly Potter, I always thought you would end up with the tall oaf beside you rather than the Mudblood."

            "If anyone is gay, Malfoy, it's Colin," Harry burst out laughing.

            "Excuse me?" Colin burst out.  "Why does everyone think I am gay?  I am _not gay!  So I speak with my hands, that means nothing!  Nothing I tell you!"  As he continued his voice kept getting higher and higher pitched.  "And so what if I can imitate the stereotypical "gay talk"?  I'm a good actor, alright?  And I certainly do not walk like a woman!"  _

            "Cut!"

            "Don't cut me off!  I'm not done yet!"

            "Double cut!"

            "But-"

            "Triple Cut!"

**Blooper #2**

            "I don't know what you're talking about," I responded stiffly.  What did he care anyway?  To him I'm just another Weasley.

            "Oh come off it," he snapped.  "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

            I looked at him coldly.  He looked at me impassively.  Stupid dolt.  I opened my mouth to tell him off.  But instead of insults the entire story started to issue forth from my mouth.  I don't know why, but it did.  All of it.  From the secrets to my feelings.  Malfoy remained silent through the entire thing, his eyes not leaving my face.

            "And so I left," I concluded, not looking at him.  For some reason I chanced a glance at his face.  I stopped.  "Stop making faces at me, Malfoy."

            "Draco looks like monkey," he chirped in a Russian accent, squishing his face so he looked more like a pug than anything else. Let alone a monkey.

            "Oh this is ridiculous!  Cut!  Stop it Malfoy!  Gah!"

~Ginny and Draco burst out laughing~

**Blooper #3**

            What a creepy thought.  Being dragged into the forest by something.  Even while traveling in a group.

            Wait a minute.  What was that?  Nothing Ginny.  You're seeing things.  Stop thinking about it.  You're just going to creep yourself out.  And there's still the whole East Side to do.  But the East Side runs closest to the forest . . .

            Don't think about it!  Stop it!  

            Shovel, lift, toss.  Shovel, lift, toss-

            "Ahh!  Cold!"  I turned around to face Draco, who was frantically brushing snow off his face.  I burst out laughing.

            ~sigh~  "Cut."

**Blooper #4**

            "You could always ask Professor Snape to be your potions partner," he offered as we reached the door.  We both pushed a door open at the same time and walked though.  

            I turned and looked at him, slowing as the doors swung shut.  "Oh that will bode over well," I sneered darkly.  

            Then not knowing exactly what came over me, I stopped and clutched the notebook to my chest.  My eyes widened to the biggest puppy-dog eyes I could manage and I found myself hoping form foot to foot like some little school girl.  "Oh Professor Snape!" I squealed.  "Would you please be my potions partner?  Oh please oh please oh please?!"

            He stopped and simply stared – Wait a minute...

~Professor Snape walks by, glaring~

            "And then they wonder why I am the way I am," he muttered darkly, glaring at me.  "If I'd have known you wanted to work with me so much Weasley, I would have kicked Malfoy out a long time ago."

            "Cut!"

~Draco bursts out laughing along with Ginny.  Snape simply smirks~

**Blooper #5**

            My eyes snapped open and I stared straight up at what should have been the ceiling.  Instead, however, there was a pair of golden eyes set in a green fleshed face staring down on me in a seemingly impassive way.  Can Tree Daemons even be impassive?  

            After a moment in which we both sat there and stared at each other, I set my mouth into a frown and scrambled away.

            "Don't touch me," I hissed, glaring at him and pulling my extended hair out of his grasp.  He had been holding onto it in what seemed to be mild amusement.  Well it was fully exposed amusement I suppose.  I moved as far away as I could and the stupid thing could still reach my hair.

            "Girl, you need to use more conditioner," the creature named Joe said.  "It's positively ghastly.  Even with all these twigs in my hair I still manage to do a five minute treatment at least once a week."  He flipped his hair, flashing me a cheesy grin.

            "Joe!  You're supposed to act mean, not like yourself!  Cut!"

            "Oh honey, you're no fun."  ~pouts~

**Blooper #6**

~Ron stuffing his face with food~

            "It's your line..." Hermione hissed.

            "Marfle," Ron muttered.

            "I can't work like this!" Hermione shrieked, grinning all the while.  "I just can't!  It's ridiculous!"  ~bursts out laughing~

            "Cut."  ~smacks head~

**Blooper #7**

            "Yo."

            We both stopped, looking around for the source of the voice.  Who I saw made my heart stand still.

            "Father?" Draco asked simply, nodding at the older figure standing in an alley way but twenty feet away.  Draco's grip on me increased until it was almost painful, but I wasn't about to stop him.  It was rather comforting even if I knew I was going to get bruises.  

            Not knowing what else to do, I simply stared at the older Malfoy, getting the feeling that something was wrong.  Terribly wrong.  

            "What up dog?" Lucius Malfoy drawled, swinging his pimp-stick idly.  "Just wondern' how my homeboy's doin'."

            "Enough with the pimp-stick already!  Cut!"

**Blooper#8**

            I sat in the library beside Sara, idly twirling my quill, debating what to doodle.  I put the nib down and began to draw it across the page.  For some reason the boy looking back at me looked like Draco.  The Draco I hadn't heard from in over a month.  But something began to distract me from my drawing...

            "I can't get no, satisfaction," Sara began to sing.  I turned and glared at her only to receive a smile in response.  "I can't get no, girlie action."

            I sighed.  "'Cause I try, and I try, and I try and I try," I added.

            "I can't get no," Sara continued, bopping her head slightly.

            "Do do do," I 'do'ed.

            "No no no!" we sung together, both smiling now.  "Ch ch ch ch ch.  Hey hey hey!  That's what I say!"

            "Cut!"

**Blooper #9** – Because someone complained about the lack of hugage...

            "So, the same time tomorrow then Weasley?" he asked as we finally stood to leave.  I grinned at him, making my way towards the door, tucking my book into my side bag and hoisting my umbrella.  I didn't stop until I was through the door he opened for me and under the over hang, opening my umbrella.

            "Only if you stop using my last name, Malfoy," I replied, grinning then turned to walk away.

            "Wait!" he called after me, and I turned to look at him in question.  "You didn't give me a hug!"

            "What?" I asked in confusion.  "It's not in the script..."

            "Hug," he said, holding open his arms.

            "Uh..."

            "Hug."  He took a step towards me.  "Hug.  Hug.  Hug."     He looked like Frankenstein.

            "No!" I squealed, backing up quickly as he trudged towards me.

            "Hug.  Hug.  Hug."

            "Get away from me!"

            "Cut!  Stop the rain!  Just cut!"

            "Hug.  Hug.  Hug."

~*~

**Happy Holidays Everyone!******


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